Chemo Recliners

Last Monday, i had my first introduction to the Chemo Recliners in my local hospital. They're on floor six, wedged into a small corner labeled the infusion room. It's an interesting place that i am positive resembles some semblance of limbo. people hang in this room from the narrows of some small cord- usually the IV line that translates into a life line. like i said, it's an interesting place somewhere between life and death.

the chemo recliners are not only for cancer patients, especially seeing as that i don't have cancer. but mainly, cancer patients occupy this narrow space. anyways, on monday morning i took my official place in a chemo recliner to be tested for adrenal insufficiency, otherwise known as Addison's disease (JFK had it). for the first time ever, i found myself in a room of sick people where i was not the sickest person. i felt awkward and uncomfortable. these people were facing near death. for one lady, this was her first day of many in the chemo recliner. she came in energetic. her husband dropped her off. no doubt she told him not to stick around- no biggy, it'd be over soon is what i bet she thought. but as the hours passed and the chemo dripped each drop into her veins, i saw the expression on her face change. she now understood. the complexication introduced her to the reality of chronic illness. it is never over quickly or simply. it's complicated, drawn out, draining, tiring and never ending. yet, i doubt it was the chemo that brought upon her realization of her new situation. see, after hours of sitting there, listening to us other old-timers, i think she began to realize the gravity of her situation. it's not because she has cancer that the scenario is dire, it's the hurdles she now understands she shares with each of us sickos... the hurdles are both commonly held and differently experienced by each differently diseased person... that's what a diabetic and cancer patient have in common- they're part of the same complexication that makes each of their lives so hard to navigate. it's what i understand of what it must be like to have HIV/aids, TB, SARS, malaria, cancer, MS, etc. it's not that i know the individual experience of HIV, the suffering and specific agonies. but i understand the system that accompanies every disease, malaise, and illness.

anyways, i sat there and watched the newbie transcend her innocence- let me remind you she is 65 whilst i am 20-something. yet in this instance, i had age over her. my medical age, my disease age is 10 years going on 11. her disease age is minus 1 year. but like everything, she'll age. that's the thing about chronic illness, it has its own years and counting system just like the dog years pet owners go by. many older people whine when i speak of how old i am- they say i should enjoy my youth before it's gone. but what they fail to understand is that in medical years i am already far past my prime. i am 65.

so i sat in my chemo recliner, not receiving chemo but counting my time, in sick years. like the others, i occupied a special limbo reserved for those somewhere between life and death- not quite one or the other.