Subtle Angels

"There are angels on this earth and they come in subtle forms." ~ Lance Armstrong

I was at the chemo clinic getting my picc line cleaned when my subtle form of an angel appeared. I'd done a relatively good job of keeping my spirits up and maintaining my positive attitude up until that particular day but admittedly, it was all beginning to take it's toll one me and maybe it showed.

I don't know about most treatment clinics but the one at Walter Reed is always in a state of controlled chaos. The patients range in age as much as in cancer diagnosis and prognosis. There is a limited staff of nurses who, although are truly overworked always have a smile and a story to share and ensure you are never made to feel like a burden. As these nurses carry around chemo cocktails infusing patient after patient they are literally carrying life (or death) within their very own hands. I find that in itself unbelievably amazing.

Anyway, there's a constant buzz in the air between the machines making all kinds of beeping and buzzing, the nurses scurrying about and some of who I believe to be the chattiest patients of all, the cancer patients themselves and their "angel for the day" or designated chemo care person.

I often don't wear hats or scarves in public. It's simple. I'm currently bald and it's a fact. This particular day though I had on a "do-rag" and as i walked in to the room full of fellow currently bald people some old fella said to me, "You going swimming sweetie?" Of course my answer was no and so he didn't hesitate to tell me to take of my "swim cap" and join them.

The conversation centered (as usual) around hair loss, number of treatments, types of cancer, etc. The subtle lady across the room was their with her father, he was the one receiving treatment. She herself was a breast cancer survivor and carried a picture of herself when she was undergoing treatment and bald. I was a bit surprised that she carried the photo and as she removed it from her wallet to show me she explained that being bald was a constant reminder of what was important and that through the years and with the growth of her hair and the "return to normally" she didn't ever want to forget what she knew then. She reached out and touched my arm and told me that before I knew it this would all become a distant memory to me. That what now consumed my life and my mind would soon one day just be a memory that would be stored in the back of my mind.

For the first and only time ever while I was in the treatment room my eyes filled with tears. Not tears of fear or pain, but of relief.

I SO needed to hear that. I sat on my bathroom floor only a couple of days before that crying, sobbing, because I felt overwhelmed, exhausted, frustrated, and downhearted over the current condition of my life and my health. I realized that I had not felt joy or excitement in months. I felt as if I could hardly even remember true happiness.

I don't know if I am able to fathom all of this becoming just a distant memory. I hope that I don't ever have to carry around a photo to remind me of a time when I knew what was important. But what I do know is that day i needed that subtle angel to share those words with me. And I thanked her for being my angel that day.