Remembering back to when I first stepped foot in the Cape Breton Cancer Centre ... my mother and I waited patiently in the waiting room for me to be called in to see Dr. MacCormick. A lady came in, seeming pleasantly surprised to see my mother, and came over to say hello. My mother said: "Oh, hello, Stella!" and expressed her shock at this lady's diagnosis of cancer. Stella was a woman who appeared to be in her fourties. She wore a warm hat around her head, which was hairless from chemo treatments. Her skin appeared dark and she looked tired. My mother asked how she was doing and she replied "I'm doing well ... I'm doing very well." I remember looking at her and wondering if I would have to go through what she was going through. I wondered if Dr. MacCormick would recommend chemotherapy and hoped he would not. I wondered what she must be going through at home and felt deeply sorry for her.
About a month later, when I entered the chemo room for the first time and for my very first treatment, I saw Stella once again. As the nurses got me set up in a chair, my mother went over to speak with her. She came back saying that this was Stella's final treatment. I remember saying "Good for her" and wondering if I could make it that far. I again found myself daydreaming about what she must have gone through, as I watched her chat with the supportive family members that gathered around her chair.
It has now been a couple of months since the last time I saw Stella (in the chemo room). Yesterday my mother told me that she heard that Stella passed away a couple of weeks ago. I was absolutely shocked when I heard this. Although I had only just briefly met her and did not know her at all, I felt deeply saddened when I heard those words pass through my mother's lips. Not only did Stella have ties to two key memories in my experience with cancer, but she had gone through what I fear the most--terminal cancer. When I met Stella I had no idea the extent of what she was going through. She survived less than two months following her last treatment.
Now that I have become a member of a club I had never wished to join, I feel a very strong bond with others "members." It is almost like an unspoken brotherhood that no one but we who have experienced that unspeakable word can understand. As I watch other "members" leave this world and enter the next, I almost feel as though I am losing a piece of myself. On the other hand, I also feel that I am gaining a strength that is caused by the overwhelming urge to keep us all alive (or at least to keep this horrible disease from claiming our lives). It makes me want to fight even more, to hold on even tighter, and to do whatever is in my power put up a fierce battle against this monster.
Let's all take a moment to remember Stella or someone we know or love that has passed away from cancer. Let's all hope and pray that we can find some way to put this monster to rest so that our future generations may live a life free of this horrible disease.
~~So powerful is the light of unity that it can illuminate the entire earth.
About a month later, when I entered the chemo room for the first time and for my very first treatment, I saw Stella once again. As the nurses got me set up in a chair, my mother went over to speak with her. She came back saying that this was Stella's final treatment. I remember saying "Good for her" and wondering if I could make it that far. I again found myself daydreaming about what she must have gone through, as I watched her chat with the supportive family members that gathered around her chair.
It has now been a couple of months since the last time I saw Stella (in the chemo room). Yesterday my mother told me that she heard that Stella passed away a couple of weeks ago. I was absolutely shocked when I heard this. Although I had only just briefly met her and did not know her at all, I felt deeply saddened when I heard those words pass through my mother's lips. Not only did Stella have ties to two key memories in my experience with cancer, but she had gone through what I fear the most--terminal cancer. When I met Stella I had no idea the extent of what she was going through. She survived less than two months following her last treatment.
Now that I have become a member of a club I had never wished to join, I feel a very strong bond with others "members." It is almost like an unspoken brotherhood that no one but we who have experienced that unspeakable word can understand. As I watch other "members" leave this world and enter the next, I almost feel as though I am losing a piece of myself. On the other hand, I also feel that I am gaining a strength that is caused by the overwhelming urge to keep us all alive (or at least to keep this horrible disease from claiming our lives). It makes me want to fight even more, to hold on even tighter, and to do whatever is in my power put up a fierce battle against this monster.
Let's all take a moment to remember Stella or someone we know or love that has passed away from cancer. Let's all hope and pray that we can find some way to put this monster to rest so that our future generations may live a life free of this horrible disease.
~~So powerful is the light of unity that it can illuminate the entire earth.
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