Dreams and Wishes

As we all know by now, I have some interesting quirks.  My most common eccentricity is making wishes.  I am incredibly superstitious, and I believe making wishes within myself, they will somehow translate to the world I'm living in.  I also believe if I remember my dreams, they will one day come to fruition, some day.  There's no harm in that.  Dreams really do come true, right?

The children at the hospital have taken notice of my incessant wish making.  The began with the kids noticing my behavior, and asking what I was doing different times of the day. I told them I was making a quick wish.  That sparked their interest even more.  They started asking what types of things I wish for.  Of course, I could tell them my wishes, but I could help them map out potential wishes for them.  I expressed to them that they could write down their wishes, and keep them in a special safe place, only they know about.  I also informed them that they could close their eyes, and make their wish silently.

The kids latched onto the concept of dreams and wishes.  They wanted to know more.  They asked about places they could go to make wishes.  I told them about wishing when you go under a bridge, wishing of four leaf clovers, wishing when all the numbers on the clock are same, and so on.  Lastly I told the children about wishing on stars.  I could see all of their bright, smiling faces go blank.  I saw their little heads drop into their hands.  I was shocked by this change in attitude.  "Was it something I said".  I sat in front of them, looking at their innocent faces.  I few minutes passed and they didn't perk up.  Finally, I just asked what was going on.  One boy looked up and said he has never see stars.  Oh my goodness!  That thought never crossed my mind.  Most of these children are so young, and have been stuck in medical facilities their entire lives.  They have never seen a beautiful night sky.  That got me thinking.

I went to the administration to inquire about putting up glow-in-the-dark stars in their patient room.  I was nervous to hear her answer.  The hospital just built a new-state-of-the-art room for the pediatric cancer patients.  During the construction the children have been staying in their regular room until completion of their new patient area.  To my surprise the administration gave me the go-ahead to execute my design.

I did a lot of research on each planet, the many different moons, stars, and constellations.  I recruited a nurse and two technicians to help me get the room set up, especially with the manual labor.  It took two days to pull it all together.  I didn't want to just slap stickers on the walls and walk away.  I formed constellations with the press on stars, and we painted different space scenes around the room.  I brought in books and magazines that are all space related, so they can identify what we put in the room, and explore other aspects of space.  I'm not gonna lie...the room is pretty stellar!  I'm totally envious.

The charge nurse called me this morning to tell me that the children were moved to their new room.  They were ecstatic by the transformation!  All of the kids were full of energy exploring their new area.  I could hear random screams of "Thank You" in the background.  It was adorable.  I'm so thrilled they like what we accomplished in such a short period of time.

I know there are many people who don't believe in superstition.  Many men and women believe only in what's is tangible, and fact-based.  That may work for some, but what kind of life is that?  I think it is truly important to let our minds absorb the abstract world around us, giving us a hopeful outlook.  How is anyone supposed to have hope if they don't dream?  Dreams provide us with our wishes.  Wishes are a gift to be granted in time.  No two wishes are the same, just like no two stars are the same.  We give our wishes to the stars to hold them until we are ready to receive them.  I can't give the kids the entire night sky, but I'm so happy I was able bring a tiny piece of it to them.

Scars

Over the past few years I have acquired many physical scars because of my illness.  I experience dizziness and lightheadedness without warning.  In turn, I faint quite often.  One minute I am fine, and the next I'm face down on the floor.  It's alarming how quickly it can happen.  Nine out of ten time I hit my face, neck, or arms on the way down.  Aside from waking up on the floor, I am am often laying in a pool of blood.

My most recently scars have been burn scars.  I have gotten burned by a multitude of equipment at the hospital.  The most painful burns are radiation burns.  These burns are large and very deep.  I can feel the pain down to the bone, and every time I move.  I have had to alter my clothing, bedding and furniture in order for me to find some sort of comfort from these irritated areas.

The most prominent scars are those that are on my face.  I have a mix of old and new from passing out, and catching my forehead, or chin on corners.  I tell most people(strangers), when they ask about them, they are from a car accident.  It is easier to give them a generic answer.  Car accidents, unfortunately, are a fairly common occurrence, so they don't pry any deeper into the situation.  Children are most likely to ask personal questions that are difficult to find the answers for.  In general, they also have a short attention span, so a direct answer is all they want to listen to.  That is the saving grace for both of us.  They get an answer to their question, and I don't have to dwell on past injuries.

Adults on the other hand, they like to pry.  I understand.  It's human nature to explore the unknown, and to be nosey at times.  I admit that I like to be all up in everyone's business.  I'm just as curious about the lives of those around me, as they are about mine.  It's the way of the world.  Social media would never be what it is today without inquiring minds.

I was visiting a new patient at the hospital today.  We were getting to know each other, naturally, she was asking about my scars.  I gave her a short synopsis of where they came from, and we moved onto another topic.  We talked for about 20 minutes while she was settling in.  I had to go in for my last dose of radiation for the day, so we said our goodbyes.  I told her I would check in on her tomorrow, and I left the room.  As I was walking out, her father stopped me at the door.  He asked if we could chat in the hallway.  I was perplexed by his request.  I hoped I hadn't imposed on time with his daughter.  My anxiety was trough the roof.  I thought he was upset with me for interrupting him, and his daughter.  To my surprise the conversation went in the opposite direction.  He thanked me for coming to welcome his daughter, and his family to the hospital.  He said that the nurses and doctors haven't been very accommodating.  He appreciated that I made time for them.  I was relieve that he was not angry with me.  I told him that it was my pleasure to talk to his family.  I truly enjoy making connections with other patients, and their loved ones.  I assured him that this would not be a one-time thing.  I will be "bugging" them all the time.  They'll be sick of me.  We shared a laugh, and I told him that I had to head over to my treatment room.  He nodded, and left me with a strange message.  He said "You wear your scars well.  I can tell they are much more that skin deep.  You have earned them."

I was dumbfounded by what he said while I was walking away.  I only just met this man, and he could already see through me.  Am I that transparent?  The hospital is the one place that I do shed all of my walls and barriers.  It is the one place I am truly exposed.  I can be as strong, and hardheaded as I want to be outside the hospital doors, but once inside I am frightened, and alone.  I feel like I am stripped of all of my "superpowers", and I lay there a lost little girl.  My scars are there for everyone to see.  I can no longer hide them because they are who I am.  I am wounded.  He saw the broken person inside of me.  He connected with her.

Scars are not just superficial.  Scars run deep.  There is a physical and emotional attachment to each one.  I have tried for many years to hide them, or cover them up.  I didn't want to show my flaws.  For the first time in my life I am proud of my scars.  The man at the hospital helped me realize that I wear my scars, they do NOT wear me.  They are markings on a roadmap of my life showing me where I've been, and the struggles I've endured.  Each scar holds a memory that helps me continue on this life-long journey.

Millie

I have experienced many situations, and met many interesting people over the past four years.  The hospital is a huge melting pot of ethnicities and personalities.  I have seen the best and worst sides of people.  In turn, hospital staff and fellow patients have seen the best and worst sides of me.  Medical facilities are playgrounds for emotion.  One minute spirits can be high, filled with laughter and joy.  The next minute the tension can mount, and tears are being shed.  It is truly a roller-coaster of feelings and emotions.

I was waiting in the imagining prep room before my CT scan today, when a elderly man walked up to me.  He asked if he could sit next to me.  I thought it was strange because I was one of two people in a room filled with chairs.  I was curious why this man chose to sit so close to me.  Most people avoid direct contact with other patients at all costs.  It's a challenge to engage in small-talk when you are dealing with health issues.  Your body is in a state of discomfort, which makes casual conversation painful.  I am, however, an exception to that rule.  Chatting it up with strangers, or friends helps me to forget about the difficulties that come with illness.  It allows me to escape my troubles for a while.

This man sat quietly next to me for a few minutes.  I assumed he wasn't in a talking mood, so I took my phone out to check Facebook.  It was the perfect time to live vicariously through the Facebook status' of my friends.  As I was scrolling through some pictures one of my Facebook buddies posted, the man turned to me and asked: "When did you dye your hair"?  I was taken aback by his question.  How did this man, I have never met before, know that I color my hair.  I began worrying about how awful my hair must look.  My roots must be terribly grown out.  I was a frazzled mess, but I composed myself enough to answer his question.  I told him I began coloring my hair when I was in high school.  I started off with putting bright blonde highlights into my natural blonde hair.  I explained to him that I mimicked my sister after she first colored her hair.  I always looked up to her, and wanted to be just like her.  After going off to college in Michigan, and exploring my personality more I decided to completely change up my hair.  That is when I went from blonde to brunette, and I have been ever since.

The man listened intently to me blabber on about my hair.  I was surprised I even kept his attention.  He looked at me the entire time I was talking, but I could tell that he wasn't fully invested in my story.  A few minutes after I stopped talking, the man took my hand and said; "No matter what color your hair is you'll always be beautiful Millie".  Obviously my name is not Millie.  I began to understand the emptiness I saw in his eyes.  He wasn't living in the moment.  This man was lost.

I was not frightened by him taking my hand, or not being aware of his surroundings.  I knew that he wasn't going to hurt me.  He just needed someone to talk to.  He began telling me a story about a woman named Cora.  He was reminiscing about his past, but I could tell that he thought it was the present.  A few minutes into his story the receptionist came over to us.  She whispered in my ear that the man has alzheimer's disease, and that his daughter would be out to get him shortly.  I nodded and smiled at her.  I told her there was no rush.  I focused my attention again, to the man, and his story.  Approximately fifteen minutes later the man's daughter entered the waiting room after her test.  She walked right up to us.  Immediately she told her father to stop bothering me.  He told her that he was catching up with Millie, and to leave him alone.  I could tell that struck a cord with the woman.  Her eyes filled up with tears when she heard the name Millie.  It was evident that a lot of emotion was involved in this topic, so I interjected.  I stood up, gave the man a hug, and told him it was wonderful catching up.  I said that I had to go have my test done now, and I walked back to the CT scan.  The man waved goodbye with tears in his eyes, and a smile on his face.

My scan lasted about ten minutes.  To my surprise when I walked back into the waiting area, the man and his daughter were still there.  The elderly man was intensely involved in a magazine, and didn't even look up when I walked out.  The woman, on the other hand, stopped me abruptly and asked if I could talk to her in the hallway.  I was, of course, willing to talk to her.  She nodded to the receptionist, and we stepped out into the narrow hallway.  She asked if she could give me a hug, and before I could answer her arms were wrapped around me.  She thanked me profusely for talking to her father, and not ignoring him.(She had spoken to the receptionist about what went on in the waiting area while she was having her imagining test done).  She praised me for allowing her father to resurface memories of his daughter(her sister) Millie(who past away when she was about my age), and his wife Cora.  The man had not been able to find the memories of Millie, or Cora since he was diagnosed with alzheimer's two years ago.  Tears ran down her cheeks, and emotion filled her face as she expressed her gratitude toward me.  She told me that she had not seen her father this happy in years.  The moment had past, and her father was back in a confused state, but he remembered all of the joy her used to feel.  I began to cry as she spoke of his happiness.  That is a moment that I will get to cherish for the rest of my life.

People and places bring back unexpected memories without warning.  I think too many times we slough off these memories instead of embracing them.  These memories make up who we are today, and the individuals we want to become.  Retrace the footsteps of our past, but forge a new path toward the future.  The mind is something to be treasured because it can be taken away in an instant.

The craziness that is the hospital...

Hospitals are largely avoided by most people, and understandably so.  Unless you work in the healthcare field, or are visiting someone at the hospital, many people steer clear of doctors and medical facilities.  I wish I was so lucky.  I have see more emergency rooms, doctors offices, and operating rooms than I care to admit.  I joke that I should have kept all of my hospital wristbands in a scrapbook.  What a pitiful and depressing scrapbook that would be.  Ninety-nine percent of hospital visits are pretty miserable, but there are a few moments that completely catch me off guard.  Moments that make me laugh.  Moments that make me appreciate my health.  Moments that keep me fighting.  Those are the memories I choose to remember.

The emergency room is a host for so many strange encounters.  People say and do crazy things when they are in pain.  I saw two giant women( I'm talking 6'4", 350 pound women) threatening to fight nurses, doctors and other patients if they didn't get let back to get examined.  I have seen and heard numerous people scream at the top of their lungs because they didn't like what they were being put through.  Anything from curse words to religious prayers come spewing from their mouths.  I have also seen many people faint, or threaten to faint at the sight of even the smallest amount of blood.  I find it hilarious that people, especially the elderly, will make it blatantly obvious when they need to use the restroom.  I have never heard "I need to pee" more than at the ER.  The absolute craziest thing I have ever heard was at a hospital in Arizona.  A young girl gave birth to her child in the ER.  She didn't even know she was pregnant!  Talk about an intense situation!

The emergency room is not the only place that crazy stuff happens.  I have seen some crazy sights while admitted to the hospital.  Most patients feel like they are invisible when they are in their rooms.  I can't tell you how many people walk around naked past open hospital doors.  Yikes!  I have seen more oldies flash me full frontal nudity than one should ever see!  For ever front I have seen twice as many backs.  Talk about a full moon!  Yowza!  It's interesting how many random people will walk into my patient room.  They will sit down next to my bed and start yammering on about whatever is floating around in their head.  Most of them are doped up on whatever medications the doctors are pumping through their veins.  The conversations interesting, to say the least.  It's safe to say that all privacy is gone once you enter a hospital.

These experiences have provided me with many unique hospital visits.  I am grateful through all my woes I have been able to maintain a fairly level head.  Well, I guess that is for each of you to determine.  I might be just at crazy as the people I write about.  Ha!

Disguising the Pain

The other day I had a serious conversation with my mom.  The reality of my current situation truly set in.  I would be lying if I said I wasn't taken off guard by the discussion we had, but I also understand where my mom was coming from.  She only wants what's best for me.  

After learning of my new diagnosis, and being informed that it has already metastasized, my parents decided that it is time to ask about my wishes after death.  The morbidity of my cancer took center stage.  We have talked about the possibility of my death coming sooner than expected before, but this time was different.  My death wasn't addressed with "what if", rather it was questioned with "when you die"...  My thoughts immediately went to "whoa, these questions are real".  There is a strong possibility that I will pass on before my parents.  After putting my family through years of struggle due to my health, I am also going to leave them with the burden of my death.  That was a lot for me to take in.  I am still trying to digest it all.  My defense mechanism has always been to turn topics that become too "real" for me into a laughing matter.  I was joking around with my mom while we had this conversation, but between the jokes, truths came out.  It was a strange phone call, to say the least.  I don't think anyone else but my mother could have navigated what I was saying.  It is difficult for me to express what I want at my funeral, and the details of my burial without diverting to humor.  

Most of my friends and family know my mannerisms.  They understand that poking fun at my health is a way for me to stay positive, and avoid the heartache cancer has brought to my life.  It is not just my life that is being affected daily by my illness.  Everyone who comes in contact with me experiences the hardships of cancer.  The truth of the matter is that most of people around me only skim the surface of my disease.  I tend to deflect the conversation before it reveals the honesty of my day-to-day life.  On the other hand, there are people in my life who choose to avoid my situation.  It is easier for them to steer clear of discussing what is happening regarding my healthcare.  Either way, I try to maintain a happy and positive exterior, but inside I am torn to pieces. 

When I am alone, or with those closest to me, my emotions come to the surface.  The physical and emotional pains are no longer hidden.  For every smile and laugh there is a frown and tears.  I live in fear.  I am not afraid of death.  I am afraid of leaving the ones I love before I am ready to.  I am scared that I won't have the opportunity to say my goodbyes.  

Life teaches us lessons

I had a conversation with a young girl at the hospital today.  She is 14 years old, and has been recently diagnosed with cancer.  She has been very closed off since learning about her illness.  It's evident that she is experiencing depression and anxiety.  I have never gotten asked by a patient's doctor for a favor before.  I was taken off guard.  He approached me after her parents expressed concern about their daughter's mental health.  It's a requirement for cancer patients to be assigned a oncology psychologist, but it is not a requirement for patients to actively participate in therapy.  After learning about the severity of his patient's mental state, he suggested I talk to her.  The doctor heard about me from some of the nurses at the hospital.  He thought it might be easier for her to relate to me, than the psychologist. 

I am a chatty-Kathy by nature, so I was happy to help.  In general, it is easier to open up to a friend, than to a healthcare professional.  I first approached her two weeks ago.  We have slowly become friends.  I saw today that she is breaking through her shell.

When I got to the hospital this morning, I was greeted immediately by a few nurses.  I felt like I was being ambushed.  I was a little worried until they told me why they were waiting for me.  The young girl had been asking about me all weekend.  It was the first time she initiated social interaction.  They were excited to see her walls coming down.  They told her I wouldn't be back until Monday.  Multiple nurses tried talking to her, but she said she would wait to talk to me.  The nurses were eager to tell me as soon as I arrived at the hospital, so I could chat with her.  They didn't want her to revert back to an introverted state.  I was anxious to have a conversation with her too.  I was hopeful that she was letting me in.

I had to get prepared for my treatment session first, but as soon as I could I went to find the young girl.  I saw her sitting in a common treatment area.  I quickly walked towards her.  Her face lit up when I saw her, and brought a smile to mine.  I sat down beside her.  I apologized for not being there over the weekend.  I explained that my husband and I had plans we made months earlier.  She told me she was glad to see me, and that she had some good news.  She was bursting with excitement as she delivered her happy news.  Her parents bought her a puppy!

In the past couple of weeks since I met her we mostly discussed how her illness was ruining her life.  She said that she would never get to fulfill her hopes and dreams.  She was positive her diagnosis was a death sentence.  I was completely honest with her.  I told her that I can't predict the future.  No one can tell her exactly how her illness will affect her life.  I told her the one thing I know for certain is that she doesn't have to give up on her dreams.  Her hopes and dreams might just have to be altered, but not forgotten.

I asked what dreams she feared that she would have to give up on.  She said that she has always wanted to go to college, and travel the world.  She wants to be a veterinarian.  She loves animals, but her dad is allergic to pet dander.  She used to work at humane society on weekends, so she could be around the animals.  She can no longer go because of her health.  She would tear up every time we talked about it.  I informed her that her cancer will never change what she is passionate about.  She can still achieve her goals, and her dreams can become reality.  

I further explained my situation, and how I have been fighting my cancer for four years and counting.  I have been able to realize some of my hopes and dreams during that time.  I found the man of my dreams, and had the most amazing wedding all while fighting cancer.  I could see the surprise in her eyes when I told her that.  I went on to tell her that her dreams could come true as well.  She can continue school with tutors, or home schooling.  As for traveling, she could travel the world through books.  When she gets better she can see all of the places from the books in real life.  I reassured her that life has endless possibilities.  I brought her several books from all over world, so she could start planning her world tour.  I set her up with a wonderful tutor, and I help her with her homework whenever I can.  I also told her that I recently got the puppy I wanted my entire life.  I shared with her that making your dreams come true may not always be practical, but worth the risk.  Her parents weren't exactly happy that I told her about getting Buck.  Hearing that from me, and seeing pictures of my puppies, only made her desire for a dog stronger.  They said getting her a puppy wasn't an option because of her father's allergies.  That was until I explained to them that there a hypoallergenic breeds.  I printed off a list for them to have, just in case.  This weekend they surprised their daughter with a puppy of her very own!

I believe that having a positive mindset does change the outcome of life's decisions, whether they are big or small.  No matter what obstacles life throws at us, we have to keep forging ahead.  Life doesn't stop when when times get tough, unless we let it.