'Last chemo session! Ring the bell three times!'

Said the sign on the wall beside the big, metal hub.

 

I had hesitated, but a smiling attendant

A gentleman, a very gentle man from front desk

Hopped it to the kitchen

And returned with two, huge, metal spoons.

He pressed them into my hand. 'Go for it!'

And I struck the silver gong three times:

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The clanging rang through the whole ward

Alerting patients ranged in 'therapy' chairs,

Past cubby-hole rooms and private offices.

Bright, thrilling reverberations

Jangling your very backbone.

 

And the staff poured into the hallway.

So many familiar faces smiling

With genuine delight shining in their eyes.

'Good-bye. Good-bye! Good luck!'

I wanted to hug them for their care -

Their kindness - their patience -

Like friends, almost family!

But – you know – 'germ-y stuff'!

And I refrained, but I so wanted to.

Maybe they knew. I hope they knew.

 

They were wonderful

The people who cared for me, every single one.

May God bless them wholly -

Nurses – therapists -consultants - techicians -

Surgeons – anaesthetists - pharmacists -

Switchboard operators -ambulance drivers

Cleaners – cooks - volunteers – EVERYBODY.

'Thank you' hardly seems adequate.

But I have nothing else to offer.

Except - MY LIFE!

Cynthia Buell Thomas, April, 2019