She had a beautiful, full head of hair, greatly admired by her family and friends. The medical staff said they had never seen a person with so much beautiful hair. The day I saw her, every strand of her hair was gone and she appeared very frail and vulnerable.
As a fellow patient, I tried to be sympathetic and supportive by complimenting her on her new look. Her response caused me to pause for a moment. ” Isn’t it wonderful?,” she said. ” Now I can take a shower in half the time, and I know how lucky you men are to not have to deal with so much hair.”
The two young women laughed and teased one another as they poured over the latest jigsaw puzzle. In any other setting, you would simply be seeing two young mothers enjoying one another’s company on a summer day. Here, in the Poudre Valley Health System Radiation Oncology Center, you saw two very thin and hairless young women, fighting their personal battles against breast cancer.
Their conversation was happy and lively as they talked about family, and their future. One woman recalled how she was too weak last Christmas to sit up and sign her Christmas cards, but she was thankfully able to sign them by laying on her side on the sofa. She looked forward to a hiking trip to the mountains with her family. The other woman laughed and joked about the changes in her fingernails and toenails caused by the chemotherapy treatment.
She was an older lady, confined to a wheelchair, in her third or fourth series of radiation treatment and chemotherapy treatment for a brain tumor. She entered the patients’ waiting room laughing, greeting everyone she met, and leaving smiles and laughter in her wake. Her presence lit up the room and everyone felt much better after her short visit.
The lady was reserved and private when we first met, not wanting to engage in much conversation. During the few weeks I knew her, she became ever more friendly and optimistic as she counted off the remaining days of her radiation treatment. On the last day of her treatment, she was as joyous and giddy as a young girl. As she left the Oncology Center for the last time, I swear I saw her take a few skips as she left the center.
In the spring, I was diagnosed with prostate cancer. The recommended treatment was a combination of hormone therapy — which helped starve the cancer cells of nutrition — and 40 consecutive daily radiation treatments to destroy the cancer.
Many men will contract prostate cancer if they live long enough, generally in to their 80s or 90s. For elderly men, the recommended treatment is often “watchful waiting,” simply monitoring the cancer to ensure that the cancer does not spread elsewhere in the body. When prostate cancer does spread, it often takes up residence in the patient’s bones. Fortunately for me, my cancer had not spread.
When I started my radiation treatment, I anticipated seeing great misery and pain in my fellow patients. In some cases, I certainly did see great pain and suffering. However, what I found amazing was the wealth of hope and optimism, combined with great humor and laughter, in the majority of my fellow patients.
The physical appearance of many of my fellow patients was surprisingly beautiful. Particularly among the younger patients, there was a kind of beauty and tranquility which was difficult to describe. Their beauty, combined with their sense of humor and optimism left me in awe.
The scientists who invented the external beam radiation therapy machine created a marvel of modern medicine. This wonderful machine showers a photon beam of radiation directly on the cancerous tumor while avoiding contact with other body organs and tissues. The result is frequently the destruction of the cancer within a relatively short period of time.
I nicknamed this remarkable machine “Old Sparky” because of the hum of electric current surrounding your body during the 5- to 10-minute treatment . The radiation treatment causes very little external impact on your body.
Supporting each patient during their treatment is a group of very caring nurses and therapists who guide you through the positioning of your body and the radiation treatment. Their caring, concern, empathy, gentle touch, and their respectful and gentle treatment were a blessing.
During the time waiting for my scheduled daily treatment, I watched and listened to the laughter, joy and optimism of my fellow patients. Their voices and laughter filled the halls of the oncology center, and must have provided happiness to all that entered that special place. One could not help but pause in admiration at the strength and courage of those who were being treated.
My memories of those days in the patients’ waiting room, listening to and admiring my fellow patients while “Waiting for Old Sparky” will always remain with me.
C. Keith Greer lives in Fort Collins.
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