Anyway, I am sad because I would prefer more energy, and I am sad to not have any hair for such a long time, and my eyes keep attracting all sorts of things without my eyelashes there as protection, so I am wearing my glasses, and I really don't like the radiation place. So, do I have any more complaints, you might ask? :) Well, I have a few pains on the state of the world, and people returning from Iraq with no legs. The image I hold is a photo from the Chronicle of a young man on a bed with his two young sons, and the man has no legs. How can I complain?
Well, I'm going to anyway, because I find it funny that I am now looking back on the chemo room as a place of some delight. It was on the second floor and I could look out the window, and I had my own space. I knew I had a staked out space for three hours the first four times, and five hours, the next four. I knew and loved the nurses. They took good care of me. I somehow felt safe. This waiting room is teeny-tiny, with people who look sick and it feels very hard to find my own space, even in the waiting room. I actually haven't yet met my machine or technician. I believe I do that today. I want to say the waiting room does look out on a meditation garden, and has a fish tank, and a jig-saw puzzle set up, so, I'm sure I will come to feel differently about it. I just find it somewhat claustrophobic right now. Each time I have been there, it has felt filled with people, people who look sick, and I am not sick, and I don't look sick. I am healthy and well!!
Yesterday, Elaine gave me a beautiful smoky-quartz stone with rainbows, and smoky-quartz helps with chemo and radiation, and so maybe today with it in my pocket, all will go more well, but it feels a bit dehumanizing to sit in a room with other people in robes, so without your own clothes, and with so many very thin, and with some, with no hair. I'm sure I will get used to it, but I am not there yet, and so, I am nervous and scared. I am not so fond of machines, and I guess I will be pals with a machine each day. I suppose today I will better understand what is going on, and so, I will look back on this day, and wonder how I ever worried, and all will seem very comforting and commonplace.
Also, once I have a fixed time, I will probably come to know the people in the waiting room. Perhaps, I find it disconcerting that there are so many people in the waiting room. Things don't yet seem to float on time. I really would love to be in and out, but I see that is probably not going to be happening. Anyway, I put my complaints here, and leave them with you. Maybe, for today, I need a few more prayers. Also, it seems I know so many people now that need prayers, so maybe I request a big rousing cheer of prayer for us all. I think we all need prayers sometimes, and maybe some are afraid to ask, because they think their problems aren't "big enough," so I am asking for everyone in the world today, HUGE PRAYER!!! I think we all need it, and today feels like the day, the day after an eclipse. May we all be well, in all the ways of health, as the ways of health circulate, pollen in the wind.