The Thought Vox

Snow rarely falls straight down here. Tall buildings along major city arteries serve as wind tunnels. The sky was thick with blowing snow as I made my way north along University Avenue, for my midday appointment at Internal Medicine.

Waiting area at Internal Medicine/ Tropical Medicine

I met a Filipino woman in the waiting room. She didn’t give her name; just the facts: “I am Filipino and I am a strong woman. Right now I need help – that’s all.” We waited and chatted for the better part of an hour.

She was expected to die over Christmas. An unexpected bout of pneumonia had left her in a coma for 10 days. “I am a strong woman,” she repeated, “I woke up – they didn’t think I would.” If I had to guess I’d say she was nearing sixty. She’s worked for the same cleaning company for the past twenty-six years. They are eager for her to return. Her benefits are starting to drain on the company. She’s returning the first week of March; this woman who’s breathing is shallow, cough sounds like a death rattle, and could barley walk on her own when her name was called.

Before she left me she talked about a ninety-three year old Greek woman she roomed with for a month. Again, the woman didn’t have a name. The Greek woman spoke no English so it was hard for her to communicate anything. She was a proud woman who didn’t like to be touched anywhere. Her son told my new acquaintance about the Greek woman’s Life. She was a laborer in the old country. The mother of eight children she would travel miles to work on farms. She had to bring her babies with her, but had to conceal them. She would make hammocks from sheets and tie them high in the trees so wild animals wouldn’t kill them. Every hour she would sneak to the woods to make sure the babies were alive an undiscovered. They always were.

Life is a wonder. We never know where it will lead or who we’ll meet along the way. I never thought I’d be walking with a cane at thirty-nine. I’m sure my mothers sister never expected to die of cancer at thirty-nine, in the early years of the 1960’s. When I got the cane I figured it would be a few weeks and then I would be as good as new. It’s been 10 months of the cane, chronic pain, numerous tests, and no answers. Today marks the start of a new chapter.

In my “life plans” I would walk the Camino de Santiago de Compostela (The Way of St James) in my 40th year. Now, two months into forty, this seems unlikely. I spent five hours at the hospital today. Though it’s tiring to go over my life medical history and habits again, I feel fortunate to live in a place with health care. After a thorough exam, ten more vials of blood, and chest x-ray I returned to the mayhem of city life.

I decided to walk a bit and get some air. When I reached Dundas St. the snow was wild and had shifted into my face. A crowded rush hour streetcar passed. It was packed full of wet unhappy looking people. I headed west on foot. I didn’t intend to walk all the way home but when the soul is motivated to move forward I go with it.

Time to think is important. I was able to go over the day in my mind: what was said, what’s to come in the way of new tests. I also gave a lot of thought to what I would say to my mother. After I got the all clear about cancer in September I came clean with her and promised I wouldn’t keep the truth from her. After today it appears that cancer is back on the list of possibilities and I regret that promise. My mother lost her father, a brother, and a sister to cancer. I don’t want her worrying about me. She informed me that was her job.

I arrived home after an-hour-and-a-half looking like a snowman. I was tired but worked things out in my head. I’ve spoken to my mother and she seems okay, worried – but okay. I return for invasive testing over the next few weeks. The chief concern is looking for tumors that may have been missed. I’ll admit, this is not what I expected to hear nor is it what I wanted to hear. However, it is not hiding babies in the woods, going back to work with failing lungs, or the end of the world. This is just another unexpected turn in the wonder of life.