I'm sitting and waiting for the pharmacy to mix my chemotherapeutic drugs. I'm sharing a room with a snoring man whose wife is furiously clicking a mouse connected to a laptop. I suspect she's playing solitaire. The Today Show is blaring and I hate it.
I didn't get a window today. My room is dark (which I prefer). My mom couldn't come along today, so I'm flying solo until Paula gets off work. She scheduled a shorter day so she could at least sit with me for the last couple hours of treatment.
I feel like I'm constantly using this space to talk about how great my girlfriend is; but rest assured that it's calculated. A large chunk of this ordeal has been (re-) learning how important love is. Not that it's been unimportant to me before, or that my definition of it hasn't evolved; but I am thankful everyday to have the love that I do.
Since cancer patients supposedly have an aura of wisdom, I'll offer this gem: love takes practice. Do it often.
p.s. My roommate left. Ellen was interviewing Selena Gomez. I kinda wanted to hear the rest of that. I'm too proud to turn on my TV.