The Waiting Room

Today was Laila’s last radiation session - we got to bang the gong and hang her hand on the tree wall, but most importantly, marking milestone complete.

After seven straight days of very early morning visits to the hospital and waking her up from a deep sleep AND having to starve her until after treatment — she, and I are happy to be done. 

The team in the Radiation Oncology department at Northwestern was wonderful, and I have to admit that after seeing them every day I will miss not seeing them again. But, as they said “not seeing us again is a great thing in this case.”

And, yes it is. 

As I mentioned in my last post, every day the nurses had me walk Laila into the treatment room and hold her as they put her under anesthesia.

Brutal.

Once she was laying soundly on the bed, they quickly ushered me out of the room and sent me to the waiting room…to wait. 

Since radiation treatments are every.single.day. I got to know some of the familiar faces who sat in the waiting room with me every morning, and to say I was humbled by their stories is an understatement. 

For example, there was Spiro, who was accompanying his wife who has been in a battle with cancer for the past five years. He told me that she has had 30... THIRTY surgeries. From a double mastectomy to spinal and brain surgeries. For her, what started as breast cancer has now spread through her entire body. They have four kids ages five-11.  I asked her husband how he takes care of four kids, takes her to daily treatments and works full time. And he said “we just make it work. We have to. This is life and we have to live everyday to the fullest.” 

Everyday when when his wife emerged from her treatment her body was slumped, her chest was concave, her belly boated. Her eyes were sunken back into her head, she had no hair. This poor woman has gone through so much - for FIVE years. Yet, today she looked at Laila and said, “I would gladly go through what I am going through 10x over to take the cancer away from your daughter. Children should not have to endure this.” 

Humbling. 

Then there was Michelle. She was there everyday with her six year old daughter who is suffering from a neuroblastoma. Her daughter was diagnosed a little over a year ago, the same day that she found out that she was pregnant with her fourth daughter. Her daughter’s treatment is MUCH more aggressive than Laila’s, and over the last year, she has to sometimes stay in the hospital for 30 day stretches at a time for every day chemo treatments.

So, here is a woman who is at the hospital daily or sometimes for a month straight at a time, with four kids, one of whom is an infant. I asked how she is handing it all. She said, “well, I have basically been living in the hospital for the entire life of my baby (who is now seven months), so poor thing, we keep passing her around, but at the end of the day, its all hands on deck until Briar is healthy we have no other option.” 

Insane. 

Those are just two examples of the stories I hear on a daily or weekly basis. And while we are also battling cancer, during a global pandemic, it is stories like those that really make me (us) count our blessings. It could be so much worse. People are truly suffering so much. And, like Spiro reminded me, all we can do is, “be grateful for everyday, take everyday as it comes, and make the most of everything.”

So, tomorrow we head back to the hospital, this time to continue on with chemo, and I will surely hear more stories, reminding me how lucky we truly are.