Silver Lining
February 20, 2021 - Silver Lining
I am sitting in a very comfy couch chair. One of those you can sink into the cushions, support for the legs pop up from below so the legs are up high and comfy, and the back of the chair can lean all the way up to reclining at whatever way one wants. I feel my body sinks into the comfort of the chair, and I look around. I have never been in such environment and I did not have any expectation. I had nothing to base any expectations to build on, if anything, I imagined a cold environment where serious nurses connect people to machines that inject Chemotherapy into people’s bodies. I was surprised that this place was the opposite of anything I could have imagined. The room is exceptionally large and spacious. People sitting in a good distance from each other for peace and privacy. Each chair is in a different direction, so it feels like more flow in the area. Each person is connected to a machine in a way that is hard to see they are connected. People listening to music, reading a book or scrolling through their phone quietly. Each person has a private TV screen, and there is a computer screen behind the TV for the nurse’s input. I notice the people around are many different ages, some young some old, some black some white, some fat some skinny. One young woman looked pregnant. I see the differences, which immediately takes me to the commonality. We are all vulnerable human beings. Cancer does not discriminate. It does not matter the race, the age, the beauty, or wealth. When one gets this ugly disease, all the above does not matter either. We all share our grieving process. The denial, the bargaining, the sadness, and the anger. We all share our love and tears, our breakdowns and delights, our vulnerability and uncertainty, our hopes and disappointments. What a great reminder of our commonality and our apparent connection beyond all judgements and opinions.
Ivon decided at age 20 he wants to be a nurse in a Chemo facility, working with cancer patients. “what made you choose just that?” I ask with curiosity, and Ivan with excitements, started telling me how much he can learn from people who are going through this unimaginable process, and how much he does learn each day, from each person. He loves what he is doing, and I could tell that from his way of being. So eager to help and talk and share. Most of the day I talk with him, or with the woman who introduce herself as the Councilor of the unit. I notice that somehow, in the midst of the threat of Cancer, the chemo, and the uncertainty, I am feeling happy! Something about getting out of my mind conversation and into dialogue with people, feeling connected, interested in others’ lives, feeling the common thread connecting all humanity, something about that eternal connection puts a big smile on my face and in my heart. The visit to the Chemotherapy center moves from something dark to something light and uplifting. I also realize, that because of Covid we stayed away from personal contact with people. I can see how much I miss that human connection. My mother could not live without her art. I crave heart to heart conversations with people. In that sense, today was the best in a long time…
Later in the day, Keren comes with Jonathan and the boys, and Roy comes all the way from Japan!!! Did I say it was the best day in a long time? At that point, the day rating jumped up from great to fantastic. The best indeed, since my Birthday celebration over a year ago.