The Waiting Room At A Hospital
I’m sitting in the waiting room at the hospital, waiting for them to call my name. It’s time for my 3 month visit with my Oncologist.
I’ve told you before that I’m happy to have these appointments. In fact, I never want to give them up. My doctor assures me, as time goes by, I might want to see her less and less frequently. Right now, I doubt it. I appreciate her patience with me, and when she brings this up, I shrug it off.
Sometimes I think about what would have happened if I’d always had an Oncologist. If I’d been going to her for my whole life, how this little experience with breast cancer might have been avoided. Of course, I know that’s silly. Preventative medicine isn’t practiced nearly enough in our country.
But, that’s why I’m here today. To get my blood levels checked, touch base with my doctor, and hear her tell me, “You’re doing great.” That’s really all I want to hear.
I feel good. I’m loving and living life each and every day. I take care of myself: exercise, eat well, sleep, rest, and have mental strength. I believe deep down in my heart that I’m going to be fine, and I think this is most important.
Before I was diagnosed, I believed strongly and deeply that I would get breast cancer. I’ve wondered many times, how the power of these thoughts affected my life. I’ll never know for sure. What I do know, is the power of our thoughts, what we think about and believe, has a strong and profound impact on everything.
As I sit in this waiting room, typing on my laptop, I am flooded with memories.
There are so many: the first time I came here, scared and crying, in shock about what I was facing. The moments I came here dreading chemotherapy, hating how I would feel. The time I felt so badly from being dehydrated, I couldn’t eat or drink.
I think about the people I met and I wonder how they’re doing. Some I stay in touch with, some have moved on with their lives, sadly, others have passed away.
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As I look around the room, I imagine some people are here for the first time. I can see it in their eyes: the fear. Some people here are waiting to go into the chemotherapy room, needing to take medicine that will probably leave them feeling yucky. They’re sitting at the end of the room, bags packed with snacks, reading material, and blankets. Other people are waiting to get news of test results, see their doctor, or have a routine visit.
It’s a waiting room full of uncertainty and uneasiness.
Yet, the people here wear smiles on their faces. They’re friendly. They chat about side effects and ask “how are you doing?” in a tone that says they really care. Nervous chatter is heard as people talk with their friends and family who have come along for support. Some people shake their feet or legs, outwardly showing their anxiety. It’s hard to be here and not be nervous. I get it. I’ve been there.
I don’t feel nervous today. In fact, I’m glad to be here. Now that I’m done with everything, I like to come alone to my checkups. I like to observe the room, think about what this room means to me, and how it’s changed me. I never want to forget all I learned in this room: about life, myself, the strength of the human spirit, the goodness of people. You never truly know how strong you are until life forces you to find out.
Mostly though, I’m grateful. Grateful to be sitting here, waiting for my checkup. Just a routine visit.
I never want to forget this waiting room.
Find meaning each day,
By the way, my appointment went great, and for that, I am very grateful.
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