A Human Place

Writing to you from the infusion center at Emory right now. It is a holy place. I come in and find my seat and find myself surrounded by a great army of fighters. Too many people are here. Almost every seat taken. So many in one place. Men and women fighting for more years, months, days. Fighting with everything they have in them. 

So many look so tired. I almost look away. My heart hurts to see what I see, to hear what I hear, to know what I know. 

But I don’t look away, I know I must look deeper. These fighters are not defined by their diseases. They have stories. Grand stories. Beautiful stories. Brutal stories, too. Stories full of husbands and wives and children and friends who love them. Who love the sound of their laughter and the jokes they tell and the way they smile. I am honored to sit shoulder to shoulder. Infusion seat to infusion seat. It is a gift. I receive it.

It’s a hard place, gosh, a humbling place. But Emory does everything they can to make it a very human place. There is kindness and concern everywhere I turn. My oncology nurse today acts more like a flight attendant as he makes sure I have a warm blanket and a choice snack. Though he must poke and prod my body, his kind words fall soft on my soul. It is a gift. I receive it.

In the vestibule outside of the room two teens play their violins. Their mother, I assume, sits with them, quietly encouraging. I don’t have to be told why they are here or for whom they play. It is beautiful. It is a gift. I receive it. 

At the end of my seat my husband sits. Faithful. Quiet. Encouraging. Strong for me. And funny. He’s a tremendous gift. 

Before I am finished with my infusion a bell rings toward the front of this busy center. Someone has completed their treatment. I might not ever ring that bell with my dx, but it encourages me to hear it anyway. I feel the beauty of hope. It is a gift and I receive it. 

I am grateful. 

Lord, keep us grateful. For kind people, for good medicine, for snacks offered, for violins played, for bells rung, for loved ones faithful, for days multiplied, for hope given. Lord, keep us grateful. Amen.