Classmates

Classmates. That's what the radiotherapy patients call each other. As one's treatment progresses, one gets to be familiar with the people going through the same thing. We might not necessarily have the same type of cancer, but we're all going through radiotherapy. And with the long wait daily, we get to swap stories and get acquainted.

Perhaps, cancer patients will never be able to tell enough stories about their experience/s and the journey that follows, how they are diagnosed, what treatment they have, etc. I find this amusing. Amused that people will keep on repeating their stories as long as someone's listening. I am also guilty of the same, sometimes. I guess this is one way of coping with the disease and being thankful for the second lease in life.

I have heard enough stories to know that I am not special, that there are a lot more people who are in worse situations, that I should be grateful. But sometimes, I am mean, I am cranky. I don't want to deal with cancer stories anymore. I don't want to be thinking about cancer 24/7. Isn't it enough that I'm there being treated and having to cope with the side effects, the hospital smell; enough that I am constantly reminded of my borrowed time on Earth? Am I obliged to be my "classmates" shrink and dietician as well?

So, I bring along a book, and try my darnest to read it - until someone beside me strikes up a conversation (again). Lord, please help me be patient with these patients! =)