There's been times I've underestimated the amazing power and positivity that can come from the interaction with another person; it's not that I've taken it for granted, just that I have often been surprised at how momentous such a small thing can truly be when it occurs in the right moment.
A kind and gentle touch, a genuine and heartfelt comment, an ear to listen without judgement, a compliment given honestly and without expectation or a small act of caring, even just a smile can be, and often will be, so very impactful upon another person at moments in which the recipient is feeling fragile, alone, afraid or unsure.
I took this image
Yesterday I was at the hospital with my mother getting her prepared for her chemotherapy treatment to begin.
She had a port-o-cath device inserted below the skin and connected to a catheter directly into the superior vena cava, a large vein above the heart. It's there to deliver her treatment intravenously. She will be on chemotherapy until the end of her life, and this was determined as the most efficient way to begin.
The last time she had an operation and chemotherapy to treat her primary cancer it almost killed her. The secondary operation and treatment was easier on her but now, with this tertiary cancer, it's expected the process will be quite challenging. She was incredibly nervous about it and didn't have a good day leading up to the appointment however relaxed a little thanks to a few small acts of kindness by a nurse.
Medical staff can be quite matter of fact, they deal with this sort of thing all the time, especially on a cancer ward, and they can lapse into a familiar process and do their job mechanically without much thought to the patient; it doesn't help that they are so overwhelmed with work. My mother and I understand this and work around it and I can only applaud the efforts of those who do the job, despite them seeming a little workmanlike at times.
The nurse yesterday was a saint, however. She couldn't do enough to put my mother, and myself, at ease and it made the entire process so much more comfortable. She didn't do anything wondrous, just small a lot of small things the most important being the explanation of what she was doing, what would happen and when and all with a gentle voice, calm demeanour and a kind smile. It's not the first cath-o-port my mother has had, but it was the best process of having it inserted by far.
My mother's life will reach a predictable point at some stage. but she keeps smiling even though she may not feel like it; she does that for me.
I cry a lot these days, when she can't see or hear, as I know I'll lose her someday soon but the strength I draw from that small act, her smile and the way it touches her eyes and seems to say, I'm alright and you will be too, helps keeps me going and so I smile too, genuinely.
I've lived my life with my mother and will continue to do so throughout this difficult time and beyond. I also try to smile now and then, for others, because it feels good and I know the power of a genuine smile when one needs it most; the thing is we don't always know who needs it or when.
Becca 馃挆
