Yellow roses

She wore dark blue jeans, black boots and a black turtleneck blouse. She looked classic and yet modern her black leather bag sat on the floor next to her slightly opened I can see two novels and a laptop poking out. Her fingers moved smoothly over a qwerty keyboard the tapping soothed my nerves I closed my eyes and allowed the rhythm to take over my thoughts.
My eyes opened as the tapping stopped bring me back into the sun filled room; I looked over at the lady who is now weeping without making a sound while occasionally glancing over at her husband who is hooked to an IV, his eyes peacefully closed. I wondered what the couple’s story was as I said a quite prayer for them. I guessed her husband is battling some sort of cancer, as mom, the other patient in the room and like all other patients in the Cancer clinic.
I looked away somewhat turning my back to the lady to allow her some privacy. Now in view of the reception area I see nurses walk over returning and grabbing new files each one represented a patient, a family and a story. An older lady walks up to the desk holding a vase of bright yellow roses that topped long green stems, she places it on the counter – “thank you so much for taking such good care of me all these months, thank you” she took off her hat showing off stubs of black hair poking through her scalp – “Wow your hair is growing back already” one of the nurses commented. My heart that sorrowed for the lady in our room was now full with thankfulness for yellow rose’s lady. “Thanks again I hope I never have to come back here, to this floor” she said with a big smile and walked away.
My eyes followed the roses as a nurse moved it to a higher shelf I imagine it to be a story book “Yellow Roses” a story who’s heroine lives happily ever after cancer treatment.
Our cancer story, what is its title? I thought about it and my mind wondered to the beginning.
Once upon a time there was a lady who felt a lump in her left breast
Hmm.
“Why don’t you get dressed while I talk to your daughter in my office?” Dr. W said in his fading British accent, he offered me a seat at his desk, pulled out a requisition form forcing a smile. “Just to prepare you for what is ahead, I believe Mom has breast Cancer” …………………………………
Technorati Tags: Cancer,Yellow Roses,Cancer Story
Posted: January 29th, 2009 under Journeying through life.
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