Yesterday was a very rough day for our household. Beyond the dredging up of sad memories with hospital visits and the bad news for a close colleague and mentor, we spent the morning discussing my father's cancer and potential treatment.
My father was diagnosed with lung cancer a few weeks back. Hardly surprising after 50 years of smoking. And still upsetting even though I am not terribly close to him. We went up to be with the family for the first oncology appointment.
It is all terribly scary and real when you walk into the cancer hospital and see so many people there - kids, seniors, moms, tough guys. You think to yourself that all these people have cancer?! But after a few minutes you look around and you see nearly everyone has two or three people with them for support. You're not sure who is supporting who - the family supporting the patient, or the patient supporting the friends. And you feel bad for the people who either chose to come alone or had no choice.
In the midst of it all you can find things to smile at. My Monster tearing up and down the halls and mooching cookies off the volunteers. The nurses giving out hugs to returning patients. And the baskets on the tables between every two or three chairs filled with little balls of yarn and a few sets of knitting needles - tiny projects started and abandoned in the anxiety of diagnosis and chemotherapy.
Next time I go I will have to ask what these end up as, or whether they are simply there to inspire some time spent in distraction or creativity.