I'm sitting in the Morse Conservatory at Dana Farber listening to a fake bird singing over a rather loud heating vent. This is not my first time here, but it is the first time I've entered this room without the anxiety that usually drapes over me like an invisibility cloak on scan days.
Same chair, same sounds, same body.
It's hard, very hard not to sink into despair as I grapple with my past sitting here waiting for my day to start. Time has somehow dissolved into one moment, and I just looked to my left for the cup of tea that I wasn't supposed to bring in here months ago, or was it years? I know I'll be here again as a patient, waiting. But hopefully when that day comes, I'll be able to meditate on the time that I spent here simply waiting for a meeting with my colleagues.