Did I ever tell you waiting rooms suck?

The anticipation of what lies ahead and seeing it sitting right there beside me is disconcerting.

I see people that have just been diagnosed, those that are in the midst of their treatment, those waiting for the start of their chemo, those that have just had surgery, those that have a recurrence and those that are here for their normal checks for THE REST OF THEIR LIVES.

What is normal about any of that?

I don’t deny that we have a common thread but that doesn’t mean I want to live, feel, see, and smell it all over and over again.

The faces of optimisim, fear, confidence and acceptance as well as denial and, yes, even joy - they are all looking at each other and determining where to draw the lines.

I bring an I pod ( whatever the device was called to listen toback then), a book, a sudoku, candy, popcorn(my mainstay in all storms) lip balm, a pen, a blank notebook that haunts me for lack of words, and hidden in the bottom, a cross.

Yes, a cross.

I am a believer.

I have faith, I am not angry or distraught, just lost - I pray.

In my life I have learned to make wishes, carry a lucky penny, avoid black cats and going under ladders and I do a lot of inner talk.

There are people all around but no one really sees or hears me, I am haunted by myself and my own thoughts. Everyone is loving and caring but, I am alone.

This is the most alone I have ever been but really the first time I am really defined.

I am Cancer.

Cancer defines me, my every moment, my every thought and directs my daily activities.