After visiting the Huntsman, I'm considering a change in careers. Maybe I'll become an Oncologist or a Registered Nurse or a Janitor just so I can spend time in this building. I'd be happy cleaning the beautiful marble bathrooms or shining the beautiful marble floors or refilling the beautiful (not marble) hand sanitizers that were EVERYWHERE. Everything was so clean and sanitized and orderly. I imagine my Celestial Kingdom is a lot like the Huntsman Institute of Cancer. For example, has this little dilemma ever bothered you? You go to the bathroom, you wash your hands, you dry your hands, you grab the GERMY door handle to leave the bathroom and all your hand-washing efforts have gone to waste? Well, the brilliant minds over at the Huntsman have a solution:
Tiny paper towels right next to the handle. I'm in love.
Despite the cleanliness, the beautiful views, and the countless tables that were home to jigsaw puzzles, my mom wasn't able to relax. This is the worried face that she had on pretty much all day. Smile, mom, they're about to pump your body full of poison!
There was lots of waiting around which didn't help her nerves.
Finally, she made it to the Infusion Suite, which kind of reminded me of the first class section of an airline (a really crappy airline where everyone gets cancer) complete with snack cart and warmed up blankets.
Coffee, tea, adriamycin cytoxan cocktail?
Mom is chemolaxing- "relaxing" while she gets chemo.
Meanwhile, dad is busy organizing the MASSIVE cancer notebook/briefcase. So much information, so many appointments to keep track of.
And lastly, we got a visit from Oakley, the therapy-dog. Apparently the therapy-rabbit and the therapy-hairless-rat had the day off. No joke, the therapy-hairless-rat. To each cancer-patient his own, I guess.
So there you go. DeNeece, you made it through a tough day! You deserve a big chocolate cake and 5 different types of anti-nausea medications to help you eat it. I'm proud.