When I go in for treatments (once a week these days, soon to be once a month), I go to what is called "The Infusion Center." It's a big room with medical recliners around the perimeter, each with a small TV that probably doesn't work, an uncomfortable chair for your spouse or friend, an apparatus for hanging IVs, and 3 different trash cans. One corner of the room is well stocked with snacks, as well as a fridge, coffeemaker and blanket warmer. About 6 nurses are always hustling around helping people.
The nurses—along with the snacks—are the best part of the infusion center. They are just so nice! When you walk in, Wendy and Alice will wave or say "Hi." Dotty remembers who you are, what you're suffering from, what snacks you like, which side of the room you prefer, which side your port is on, and what kinds of medications you have had bad reactions to in the past. As Eliza sticks in your IV, she jokes around with you and asks about your family. When your husband shows up with his head shaved, Mike laughs about how he almost kicked out that shady character because nobody recognized him. Sharon runs for basins when you want/need them, apologizes when the proteins in your vital port make it so you're in that chair for 4 hours, and scrounges up a pillow when something she gave you makes you incredibly tired. They are all just great.
The nurses—along with the snacks—are the best part of the infusion center. They are just so nice! When you walk in, Wendy and Alice will wave or say "Hi." Dotty remembers who you are, what you're suffering from, what snacks you like, which side of the room you prefer, which side your port is on, and what kinds of medications you have had bad reactions to in the past. As Eliza sticks in your IV, she jokes around with you and asks about your family. When your husband shows up with his head shaved, Mike laughs about how he almost kicked out that shady character because nobody recognized him. Sharon runs for basins when you want/need them, apologizes when the proteins in your vital port make it so you're in that chair for 4 hours, and scrounges up a pillow when something she gave you makes you incredibly tired. They are all just great.
As I close in on my final chemo treatment, I've been wanting to bring something to these wonderful nurses, but I don't really know what. Baked goods? A plant? Any ideas? What says "Thanks for taking care of me when I was at my lowest"?
