She Started It

Photo source: http://www.bloodyhand.com/

Dear Friend,

Sorry so long since the last part of the letter, but I've been contemplating how to start this segment, and I've been a little self absorbed in other activities (including a one on one bout with my washing machine). As promised, here is the part about how to "torment" the medical professional.

The day after I was admitted the hospital for the first time, my friend Jenny showed up with what I called a "bag of fun." In it were various "items of distraction," including a gel-like bloody hand that you can adhere to a window. As my admittance date was 3 days away from Halloween, the hand was appropriate. We immediately adhered it to the window in my room and watched the reactions on the faces of all who came to visit. The medical assistants, nurses and doctors all shook their heads as if to say, "We got a unique one in this room." However, one of the other items Jenny brought came with a set of instructions. It was a bowl of candy. Her instructions were, "This is nor for you, it's for the medical staff. They need treats." Brilliant! From them on, whenever I spent time in the hospital, there was always a bowl of candy in my room for the staff. I learned it was an easy way to get everybody on the floor to come visit, whether they were assigned to you or not. I think it helped me get some extra special treatment. I even found out where the snacks for patients were located

I carried that same practice over into the clinic whenever I went for chemo treatments. I didn't do it the first time because frankly I was a little preoccupied leading up to that day. One story from that day is when I was introduced to the nurse that was assigned to me for my first treatment. She walked up to me and said, "Mr. Frazee, my name is Laurie and I'll be your nurse today." My immediate response was, "Mr. Frazee is my dad." I said that to let her know that she could call me by my first name (which she now does). However, that is not how she took it. She tells me to this day that I snapped at her when she first introduced herself to me. I've told her it was not my intent to come across that way. Since then, we've "mended fences" and share stories and much laughter.

I think once she (and the rest) saw how I was going to entertain myself during chemo treatments, they knew I was "Greg" and not "Mr. Frazee." Once again, Jenny helped me along with that. At my second treatment, Jenny and I watched the movie, "Arthur." If you don't know the movie, one of Arthur's habits was that he drank....alot. In addition to watching the movie, we had popcorn, lemonade, and.......shot glasses. As we watched the movie, every time Arthur would take a drink, we would pause the movie, pour a shot of lemonade and take a drink. We found it amusing and, frankly, were the only people laughing in the room that day. We did raise the curiosity of the other patients and the staff. We were a little worried about disturbing the others, but we didn't get too boisterous. The next day, one of the staff in the room told me, "We got the biggest kick out of watching you and your friend yesterday. That's what this room needs. She lit up the room."

Following that lead, I contributed St. Patricks Day wigs, a beanie hat with a propeller, humorous buttons from GotCancer.org (including a "special button" for my doctor that read, "My Oncologist Is My Homegirl") and music CD's to the clinic (tell me, have you ever associated salsa music with a chemo treatment room - now you can).

Again, this isn't for the purpose of saying, "How cool is Greg." It goes back to the "It's about you" statement. If you have a sense of humor, cancer doesn't take that away from you. I have yet to hear that someone has been diagnosed with humor cancer. If you are having a hard time finding your sense of humor right now, that's OK. It's in you. It will come back. However, you don't have to get it back on your own.

Maybe you have a friend like Jenny who can help you find it.