Chemo time in the infusion room doesn’t get cozier than this.
The four ladies at the front shout my name Cheers-style when I walk in. Kim stops to talk a while about holiday plans and to make sure I have all my refills before heading out of town.
Then Herb, oh Herb, he’s been making me laugh with his corny jokes for three years. Not to downplay his encyclopedic knowledge of jazz and literature, but really it’s been his corny jokes that make me feel right at home.
Today, after painlessly accessing my port, he made me a perfect cup of tea so that I can relax and enjoy my book while the Avastin drips in:
I say, “What could be better?”
“Not being here, I suppose” he says, which has the wrong effect and makes me kind of sad.
And I think of how fantastically bad the Twilight movie was last night, how hard Mari, Leigh and I tried not to choke on our popcorn. Laughter, that much, was so good.
And I think of how nice it will be to visit my parents in Cambria and how I will be sending my brother love and missing him.
Drive carefully, everyone.