Have you ever played that game where you see an interesting or intriguing situation (possibly sometimes even a confrontation) playing out in front of you and you try to figure out the “story?” Maybe you venture to make up your own. Don’t be embarrassed to admit it - come on, we all do it. This really has nothing to do with me or my cancer, but I found this situation so interesting to observe that I had to share it just for its pure curiosity.
It was a typical day at the clinic, not unlike so many others. I was situated in my treatment area, which had an adjoining “chair-rea” right in front of me (separated by a large credenza for a boundary; all of the spaces are configured for handling either two or four patients at a time - semi-private and efficient). But I digress. Two men came into the available open space across from me. One looked young-ish (I’m guessing late 20’s) and the other was probably in his 50's (white haired and very similar in appearance to the former). I assumed that they were father and son, and I also assumed that the father was the patient. Much to my surprise, the son sat in the infusion chair and the father took up residence in the companion visitor’s chair (conveniently provided in each section). That was my first surprise.
But what really caught my eye, and became increasingly noteworthy over time, was that the two never said one word to each other. Throughout the approximate 2 hours that they were there, they were completely locked into their respective phones. The son wasn't dozing nor was the father passing time watching TV - just nothing. There was a very rare, occasional brief exchange between the two (so I surmised that they were not fighting or angry), but they were just not interacting at all with each other. Frankly, it was the paucity of interaction that stood out most of all - especially within the environment of a cancer infusion clinic (where conversation or nervous chatter are the norm). As a matter of fact, most of the time the dad didn’t even look over at his son - staring blankly off into the distance.
Based on other clues and cues that I noticed, it seemed like they were new to the process (recent diagnosis/beginning of the therapeutic journey). After the younger man’s “treatment,” they left and were reminded to come back again tomorrow. So, I’m going to chalk up the overall silence and demeanor of the dad, to the emotional weight of dealing with a child trapped in the throes of a serious disease that he could likely feel powerless to defeat. I hope to see them again sometime soon; that the son is progressing and that the father is "feeling better" as well.
