In the Middle of Things - Jennifer Baljko

She sat there looking terribly worried, but trying to be nonchalant. The IV flooded her veins for the first time with chemotherapy drugs. The doctors told my mom that the intense regiment of radiation treatments and a double dose of chemo drugs would extend her life, or at the very least give her a fighting chance against stage four uterine cancer. I had my share of doubts, knowing that mom had a tendency not to strictly follow doctor’s orders and preferred to follow her own random form of healthcare, but I so wanted to believe.

There, in the crowded cancer center trying to watch the View and concentrate on the ceaseless chattering, my mom looked like she should have been somewhere else, like she had be pulled away from doing something vastly more important than chemo. For the last few months, she’s been in the thick of learning the cancer-treatment ropes, shuffling between doctors offices, blood tests, daily radiation and now kicking off 8 sessions of chemo. It’s wrecked havoc on us all, and left us all thinking ahead.

But today, my mom’s sitting in the chair, wondering, really, what these injections are going to do in the long-term, and more so, how she will feel tomorrow.

In the middle of the chaos, there’s a nurse with long blond hair and soft eyes. She exudes complete calm and control. She’s optimistic, light on her feet and moves with grace from patient to patient.

I hear her talking to other patients and am immediately drawn in by her thorough, thoughtful explanations. Her voice keeps a steady beat. I decided that she would be my mother’s nurse (if possible) for future sessions. She will be my go-to touchstone during all this mess, and my source of on-the-ground information. She doesn’t even know it yet. I should tell her. Maybe later.