Let's just say there is a lot of room for improvement in chemo treatment rooms. Man, that was sort of depressing. The room looks right out to the ocean (even Newport Beach has cancer!), but the whole windowsill was lined with Precious Moments figurines, which just makes you feel like you are sitting at your Grandma's house. There were also a lot of old people in wigs sitting there getting treatment. Sue and I both thought it felt sort of surreal - talking about redecorating her house, like there was nothing weird happening to her or around us. I felt really out of my element. I'm not sure I was the best I could be - I just wanted to grab her and take her somewhere way more fabulous. I mean, if you have to pour toxins into your blood, you should at least do it in a cool location! The flourescent lights were just awful. Can we not change those out for pink lightbulbs or something that makes everyone feel a little more youthful and alive?
We had lunch afterwards. It was nice, we shared some good laughs about nothing. She was tired, but wasn't sure if it was from the treatment or just lack of sleep. By the time we got home, it looked like she was starting to get dark circles under her eyes already. I don't know if that's my imagination. It really seemed a little like she was transforming before my eyes. It scared me a little. I feel like crying as I type this because I know that it's going to get much worse for her before it gets better and there is nothing I can do to change it or take it away. I want to find ways to make her laugh and bring joy to her life.
Cancer just isn't funny.
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