Six hours on Monday

Expectant mothers,
Port puncture and time with Lynn
Sub-waiting
Weigh-in...yikes
Smiling, familiar faces,
Vitals taken
New face to meet,
Hug from Janet
New plans for my next steps,
Old soldiers to see and hug. Sue..Dawn
Dog picture to show off
One nurse missing, one new nurse never seen before
More smiles
Caregivers to greet. Jim
More hugs
New soldiers to meet/Linda, LaDonna
Life-threatening adverse reaction
Controlled panic
Heart rate, blood pressure, oxygen levels
Great concern and worry for a friend
Reaction finally reversed
Relief
Tears
Hand-holding
Comfort to give to a new friend
New stories to hear
Advice to give
New baby to ooh and ahh over
More smiles
Good results to celebrate
Last treatments to cheer about
Red Velvet Cake

It was a busy six hours. I never did finish that Su Do Ku. My head was crowded when I thought about my day in the treatment room yesterday. It is an intense place sometimes. One that can represent the extremes of life. Yesterday was a true mix of the very old and the newborn,
the just starting out and the just getting done, the routine and the not routine at all, the chaos and the calm, laughter and tears, joy and despair, distasteful to sublime, hope and resignation, old hats and neophytes. In all that went on yesterday, I did not fail to recognize nor be amazed by the ever-present, underlying factors that exists in that oncology office. The love, care, and compassion are always behind everything else that is visible in the forefront. Professionalism,
confidence, and concern woven with humor, empathy and thoughtfulness. Hard truths softened
by gentle angels. It is something everyone should see. Life and death condensed. It can forever change you.

This somehow reminds me of a book written by Max Lucado called Six Hours One Friday. It was written about the last six hours of Jesus' life...the hours up to His crucifixion. He experienced such a range of events and emotions in those six hours. It is an intense and inspiring book to read. The enormity of what happened to Christ before his ultimate sacrifice can never be topped or compared, but I experienced a smaller example of "six hours" just yesterday. A microcosm of the same sort of range of human events, the same unselfish sacrifice by nurses and doctors. Where Christ died to save us all, the staff at my oncology office each and in their very own way are slowly and surely saving their patients in some small way every time we walk in. Whether it is something so dramatic as a cure or saving a patient from a potentially deadly reaction to confirming that life continues by showing off a two-week old beautiful baby boy, to baking a cake. We are saved from our fears that we cannot be fixed or taken care of or stuck by a needle or calmed or even fed when we are hungry. It makes me smile and tear up every time I witness it. Some people may dread walking back into that treatment room. I am always looking forward to the small and saving graces that I have no doubt I am about to witness. As always, I count it as a privilige.

"God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in him." 1 John 16b"