Reflections from the Radiation Room
I've been something of a voyeur into a different world. Jacques Cousteau had the undersea world, Jane Goodall had the apes. I have the waiting room of a cancer center. They come in twos and threes, a patient and a caregiver or two. Most are older, but not all. All of the faces are poker faces, even those deformed by their afflictions. Everyone is keeping score but no one knows how they stack up to those around them.
They make friends fairly easily. Why not, they all have one thing in common besides the same scheduled radiation appointment time. They all have a reason to be radiated in the first place. The strangers, newbies, eye and are eyed by the veterans warily, as each tries to figure out where the cancer lives on each other. Some aren't as lucky, their cancers are as plain as the nose on their face, others keep theirs hidden deeply within. But are any of them really lucky?
The room's colors are faded, it isn't that the colors themselves are faded. Truth is there are brightly colored pictures, quilts, and fliers, but the room, or the people in it just drain all the color away. As pale as the people in the room are, it seems more like the colors themselves flee the room maybe seeking happier climates in daycare centers or McDonald's lobbies. I certainly felt a strong craving for a Starbucks, or anywhere else for that matter.
The veterans of this pale place talk. They talk mostly about the weather. They keep the topics topical and short term. Nobody is talking about their summer vacation plans. Certainly most of them will be there for the summer, but its all about the poker face, not everyone will be there, and no one knows who's going to draw the short straw.
And there I am sitting, waiting, watching, and wondering when I'm going to find myself a patient.
