April is cancer month in the life of Spike so today I spent a lot of time exposing myself to necessary doses of radiation and talking to folks in lab coats and walking back and forth, from the clinic to my truck, from my truck to the clinic, lather, rinse, repeat.
I’ve mentioned before how I feel like I am a part of something when I am at the cancer agency.
And how there ain’t really anywhere else where I do feel a part of something anymore.
Strange, but true.
The one beautiful thing about the cancer agency is you never get tossed out because you have fallen from grace.
And much as it sort of sucks to feel like you belong somewhere like the cancer agency, at least it’s an important place to belong.
But in cancerland there is a fork in the road and, so far, I have stayed on the healthy side of that old fork.
And when I see folks at the cancer agency who are clearly in the middle of their treatment, I feel for them. I feel for them like I feel for no other carbon based life forms. They got sent down the other fork in the road.
So today I walked back and forth, back and forth, and I saw so many people who were clearly in the middle of treatment. People in bad wigs, people dragging their O2 around behind their wheelchairs. And that doesn’t even address the folks there who are not sporting the visible signs of distress from their treatment.
I spent about two hours, clomping back and forth, between my doctor’s office and the parkade and back again.
And as much as my life has sucked big time over the last four years, I realized I was one of the lucky ones.
For sure I would have liked to have sidestepped some of the heartache of the last couple of years. But I am not in a wheel chair, with an oxygen can and a bad prognosis.
And on that level, I am extremely lucky.