One time I was at chemo, I think just before it started turning to all kinds of shit, and I remember there was this other guy there getting started around the same time I was. None of my meds had come in from the pharmacy, so I was sneaking off to the bathroom to pee before the act became a dance with my -- what the fuck do you call those? -- stupid wheelie thing that is connected to all the tubes and machinery that I am plugged into.
Maybe I have the chrono wrong. Maybe I was on my way to puke. I'm already trying to blur out that whole phase of my life and apparently I am having some success.
Anyway, so I'm walking by this guy. He was like Skyping with someone in French on his laptop or something. Like how I was often watching HBO on my iPad or getting work done with it or reading on my Kindle or watching X-Files on the TV/DVD combo provided or some other awesome high tech convenience that makes chemo sound like riding on a train or sitting at a cafe.
It's not like in 50/50 where you sit next to two awesome old dudes who give you pot cookies. Not in my experience anyway. Not at MGH. People mostly go with loved ones and sometimes you wind up chatting with the people around you, but it's fleeting and more Tyler Durdenesque. Single serving friends, even the Mona Lisa is falling apart.
But this guy looked up and gave me a curt nod, which I returned.
That was when I realized I was a part of something now, a community of people with this absurd bond. It's hard to put into words, but it fits nicely into nods. The nod says something like "Yup, this sucks. Don't go dying or anything." And you don't have a clue who that guy is, but you feel the exact same way about him.
You meet people who had your cancer that you would otherwise have nothing in common with, no reason to think of them as more than an acquaintance or co-worker. But there it is, the cancer connection, running on a deeper level than you can process, almost unwanted.
At some point, maybe soon, if I'm lucky, the phrase "cancer survivor" will apply to me, will be a legitimate way I can describe myself.
2 comments:
I hope in the sitcom version you get quirky chemo buddies. Like the start of a joke, a priest, a rabbi, and a panda, etc.
If you write a story about this, I think it should be called The Nod.
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