Tomorrow, I will see my oncologist again. On a Monday. Most of my chemotherapy was on Mondays.
Several other patients also seemed to follow a Monday schedule. As we waited in the for our treatment, or when we were bored with sitting in a chemo chair and decided to walk around with an IV pole, we would chat. We became an informal support group. We talked about our families, and about our disease and treatment. Three of the people had known each other for a while. Two had recurrent cancer, one, a chronic anemia requiring frequent transfusions.
One of the patients with recurrent cancer seemed to be failing his salvage therapy, looking worse and worse each time he came. He had had a long battle, beginning a few years before I met him. During those years, he had quit working and closed his business, putting a few others out of work. But, he had no choice. He just didn't have the energy anymore. He knew that he was nearing the end. I would guess that he has died.
The other was a young woman, first diagnosed with an unusual cancer in her twenties. She had also recurred, but she seemed to be doing well. Her attitude was clearly to live life to the fullest. I haven't seen her for a while, but now only go in twice a year for follow-ups, and often not on a Monday.
The man with chronic anemia I also have not seen, but this could also be due to my schedule.
While I can clearly remember each of them, I doubt that I will learn their eventual fates. While we shared our souls, we did not share our addresses, whether physical or electronic. These people helped me get through chemotherapy. They helped me to survive. I hope that I can play forward what they have given me, and help others through their treatment.
We were "The Monday Crowd." I hope there is a new "Monday Crowd" helping each other get through. And, other groups on other days.
Several other patients also seemed to follow a Monday schedule. As we waited in the for our treatment, or when we were bored with sitting in a chemo chair and decided to walk around with an IV pole, we would chat. We became an informal support group. We talked about our families, and about our disease and treatment. Three of the people had known each other for a while. Two had recurrent cancer, one, a chronic anemia requiring frequent transfusions.
One of the patients with recurrent cancer seemed to be failing his salvage therapy, looking worse and worse each time he came. He had had a long battle, beginning a few years before I met him. During those years, he had quit working and closed his business, putting a few others out of work. But, he had no choice. He just didn't have the energy anymore. He knew that he was nearing the end. I would guess that he has died.
The other was a young woman, first diagnosed with an unusual cancer in her twenties. She had also recurred, but she seemed to be doing well. Her attitude was clearly to live life to the fullest. I haven't seen her for a while, but now only go in twice a year for follow-ups, and often not on a Monday.
The man with chronic anemia I also have not seen, but this could also be due to my schedule.
While I can clearly remember each of them, I doubt that I will learn their eventual fates. While we shared our souls, we did not share our addresses, whether physical or electronic. These people helped me get through chemotherapy. They helped me to survive. I hope that I can play forward what they have given me, and help others through their treatment.
We were "The Monday Crowd." I hope there is a new "Monday Crowd" helping each other get through. And, other groups on other days.
