Cold Blooded

I sat in the oncologist’s waiting room and stared at cold-blooded fish that circled in the fish tank. Like sharks who wait patiently for the kill. There will be a kill today. At 10 AM.

The cold frosted glass door opened. The receptionist asked if there have been any change of address or health insurance since my last visit.

No was my reply.

Two more minutes passed. The fish stared at me as I stared back. The nurse opened the door, announced my name, I followed her to the tiny treatment room. A chill was in the air. Chemo treatment rooms are never warm.

I sat in cold fake leather chair. I covered my lap with a tiny blue flannel blanket. The same blankets the stingy airlines offer their cold customers. I draped one blanket around my legs and tried to cover my chest with another baby blanket. The artic air conditioning cooled the room. Baby blankets tried to keep me warm. They failed.

The busy nurse looked drained of life from this job. Just another patient getting chemo. Her icy fingers found a vein. She inserted a cold needle into my body. She taped the tube to my arm and hung a clear bag of saline solution over my head.

A hot-blooded man began to chill.

Ten minutes passed. I looked at the plastic bag over my head. Empty. Nurse returned with a brand new bag of the old chemo (A cocktail that has been so effective for so many years!). The nurse removed the empty bag of saline and plugged in my cold cancer cocktail.

I sat in the chair motionless. I watched chemo float through the clear tube to the needle in my arm. The chemo crept up my arm slowly. Arm began to freeze. The chemo cocktail circulated my carcass. The chemo entered my heart. Cold chemo cocktail was pumped thru my entire body. Cold chemo killed some cancer cells. Cold chemo cocktail killed some of my brain cells too. I think. Can’t really remember that part I was cold and numb.

Drip, drip, drip.

The chemo bag emptied poison into my cold dying body. I sat helpless in a chair.

My body went cold. I began to shiver. Whenever I get cold I feel like I am dying. Parts of my body were dying during chemo.

Sixty minutes later the nurse inspected the bag with fingers covered with plastic gloves.

You are done Mr. Beckstein.

The nurse held my elbow with polar paws. She pulled the cold needle out of my vein. I held the white round cotton ball over my leaking vein. The efficient nurse wrapped eight inches of adhesive tape over the fat cotton ball and around my elbow. Not much hair left inside my arm anymore.

“Do you think you can stand up? She asked.

Yes.

I will find your friend to take you home Mr. Beckstein.

Thanks

I slowly shuffled out of the cold chemo treatment room.

I hate the cold.