I went in for my second round of Chemo yesterday afternoon. It took another five hours. Thanks to my good friend Gayla B., from work who "sacrificed" a half day of vacation to have lunch with me then keep me company, the time flew. Just for the record, we solved the problems of the world, the treatment went well, and I'm doing fine this morning.
While waiting to go in for my treatment yesterday, I ran into a friend of over 30 years, who was waiting for some paper work for her husband who had been diagnosed with a very aggressive cancer this past June. Sadly, while I was writing this post, I received a text from her that he passed away early this morning. We're very saddened by his passing. Pete was a wonderful husband, father, coach, and friend.
When I was in the hospital the week of February 13, I was basically treated for my cold. Granted, once you are taking Chemo the rules change. Infection of any type is very dangerous and taken seriously, but the point is, as I walked down the halls some patients were waiting for Hospice while other families were gathered around the clock by their loved one's bedside. I truly felt that I was taking up a bed that someone else needed more.
Every time I go to the Cancer Center, I see new faces--some young, some old. Each has his or her own story to tell that we'll never know about. Some may be an open book like me, but too many others refuse to talk about their condition which makes it difficult for friends and family to help them get through the tough times.
For this reason, I'm truly touched and humbled by the many warm comments I received on my post of February 27. In truth, however, my cancer is nothing more than a bump in the road compared to what thousands of other people have gone through or are going through now.
I'm not courageous or a hero. I'm simple one woman sharing her story in the hopes that through my strength others will find theirs.
Our prayers are with the Cook family.
