The Journey

It seems that in breast cancer world, the whole experience is sometimes referred to as "the Journey". It is an expression that irritates me but then I am a bit irritable at the moment. It could be a little denial and frustration at the length of this interruption to my life. The term just feels a tad patronising and feel good for my liking. A 'journey' to me is an inherently philosophical process whereby we, on the journey, choose to travel through our stations moving toward the final destination- either getting better or not. I don't feel that way about this experience. There was no choice, it is not fun and there is no good scenery unless you count the gnomes outside the chemo rooms. If this were a journey I would have jumped ship long ago.
A friend of mine is starting on the Chemo Trail this week. I hope it goes well for her and finishes quickly with few interruptions to her own journey- her real life- on the way. It makes me sad to think a friend has to do this.
Last time I was hooked up, the person behind the curtain next to me was playing a very loud play station game on his laptop. We don't have these things in our house because I have an unreasonable aversion to them. Being attached to a drip and unable to move I was briefly irritated and then forgot about it.
Later on as I was checking out, I saw a woman with great hair in the waiting room. Everybody seems to have great hair styles at the moment. I observed her 'do' and considered whether she was just starting out on treatment. Then I noticed the sneakers that had been on the anonymous play stationer belonged to the handsome boy on crutches next to her. He sported a very cool beanie and philosophical smile as he kissed his well coiffed mum hello. She was picking up her son from chemo.

Small  covetable brooch from GOMA

I felt an enormous rush of maternal affection and concern for this lovely boy who was about 16 and an equally huge rush of relief that it is me, not my child, on this leaky boat.