If the results are good, they are good and then there is a lot of rejoicing.
If they are bad, ok, what can we do except fight again and again? I use «we» because the three of us do fight together even though I’m the only one to go through surgery and chemos. But that’s allright, I’m a girl. It’s much easier for me! Just kidding.
Why do I worry so much? I spent a sleepless night. I woke up early enough to have breakfast with Popeye... Then he left for work (hard day for him because he could not be with me) and I started my ‘I’m really worried’ walk through the apartment... picking up a book, trying to find my glasses, patting Byerly (who was clearly getting nervous too), back to the computer and again ‘Where is my book?’ until I barely had enough time left to get ready, run downstairs and get a cab: ‘Good morning, Monsieur. I’m going to the American Hospital, s’il vous plaît.’ (Maybe hoping he’d answer: ‘Sorry, but I won’t do it because it does not please me.’)
The driver was very sweet and nice. He was very worried about the fact that humans can be very cruel and animals are not. Good question. You never see a lion kill a gazell just for fun or for political/religious reasons, do you? Good point then.
When I left his car, he said to me: ‘Within the hour, you will know that you are cured.’ Very kind words indeed. I’m really wondering why some cab drivers are not working in the hospital instead of driving people there. They are so optimistic all the time. Of course, it wouldn’t be good to hear: ‘You’ll drop dead within the hour.’
We got to the AHP a long time before my appointment. I had to wait a long time in the oncology department waiting room.
A few months ago, it still had a very comfy and small waiting room... almost humane. Now that the AHP has become one of the leading cancer treatment centers in Paris, the waiting room is huge. Lots of oncologists (most of them quite young) and lots of patients too which is quite hard to stand.
When they look awfully sick, I feel so bad for them. I feel almost guilty for feeling so good (even though I don’t know the blood tests results yet).
I know I shouldn’t feel bad because I’ve been sick too, very, very sick. I’ve been there, you see. But they do make me feel terrible and helpless.
Some of them are well past hearing: ‘I was very sick and I’ve been surviving for the past 7 years, off and on, that is.’ Yes, I’m sure it wouldn’t be a good idea at all.
So there I was, waiting for my oncologist to show up. I know he’s always late. It’s getting even worse now that he’s the head of such a big department. But he’s still very nice.
He was one hour late (because he’d been upstairs in the real oncology department - the outpatients’ waiting rooms are definitely not like the oncology department... People who are there are still able to move around even if it is in a wheelchair. (I don’t mean to scare you.)
He finally came down. There were two women before me which meant that he’d be one more hour late... But since we are ancient history, I was not feeling too distressed about it after all.
Because as soon as he saw me, he gave me a big friendly smile: ‘Ah, Marie, Marie, Marie is here.’ I hate so much attracting attention in an oncology waiting room! But his smile did mean: ‘Ok, girl, you are allright, once more.’
So I started feeling real better and trying not to show my relief. I immersed myself in my book and waited.
In his office, he had this big grin on his face. He knew I was waiting like crazy for my results but he started talking about photography. The guy drives me crazy sometimes and knows it! After a while, he picked up a few sheets from his desk and said: ‘Guess what? Your results can’t be better and this is month 46! Well done, Marie!’
And back to photography. I was feeling outrageously happy. We left his office still laughing at some joke he’d been telling me (about his camera)... We kissed good-bye. My next appointment is scheduled in January. But we’ll meet some time before then because he needs help with sorting his pictures.
I help him sort his pictures and he makes me healthy. Quite a deal!
Maybe he’s been trying hard to save my life so that I’d sort his pictures... No matter what, it doesn’t matter. He did a great job with the big mess he had to deal with 46 months ago!
(He kind of blew it 7 years ago but I trusted him enough to go back to him. After all, who really knows how cancer works? He doesn’t and he’s very blunt about it which is the reason why I trust him. I know he does his best but sometimes cancer wins in the end. And anyway, we all die, don't we?)
My men and all my friends did a great job too! Wow! Wow! Wow!
May I mention though that I did fight a lot too and that I do hope I’ll grow to be a funny crazy old lady. (I promise I will try my best not to become a cranky old woman!)
Today is a beautiful day. It’s raining and it’s cold in Paris but it really is a beautiful day.
@my cab driver - it did take almost three hours!
*Good Night, and Good Luck*