My third round of chemotherapy was scheduled for last Monday morning. It was my mom's first time to sit with me through the ordeal. I wouldn't wish the sitting and waiting part on anyone, mainly because I am unconscious for the whole thing and I make for pretty bad company. But my mother is an avid crocheter and is quite adept with an iPod....so we've yet to find anything she can't out sit or out wait.
So she could have probably waited forever for my doctor to finish with his first patient and do the pre-chemo exam, but after about an hour of waiting....I had to get dressed and reschedule or I'd miss the Huntsman Center again. It was then that the door to the other exam room opened and I noticed something was wrong. There were way more people than normal in there, and as the doctor walked out, he didn't look up. Soon, the woman whom I'd shared the chemo room with the past few weeks, along with her family, were ushered passed me. Uncontrollably sobbing and shaking she was surprisingly guided to her regular chair and prepped for a round of chemo.
Obviously, she got some pretty hard news that morning. I thought about her all day. I don't know what they told her and I don't know anything about chemotherapy regiments...but I do wonder if I'd have sat down for another dose right then and there after getting such disturbing news or if I'd have bagged the whole thing and found another, more self-indulgent way to spend my day. It just didn't seem fair. What would you do?????
"Fairness gets temporarily traded in for individually needed experiences." Neil A. Maxwell
Meanwhile, up at the Huntsman Center they decided to submit my case to the "Tumor Board". This will give all their specialists a chance to review and discuss my case together at a meeting on June 18th. Should I order a pizza for them? It sure feels like a party to me!