It never gets easier- coming back to Duke. Doesn’t matter if it’s a routine check or treatment- I still feel a low simmering anger at feeling afraid, at wondering if “it” is back, at having to think about cancer at all. Doesn’t help that the piano player in the atrium is playing all sorts of inappropriate AF music...”From this valley they say you are going...” and “Lullabye and goodnight...” WTF?

There is nothing but waiting here. Waiting and watching the others- many frankly sick, wearing masks, trailing oxygen, sitting in wheelchairs while relatives try to make happy, light chatter. All while we listen to “America the Beautiful.”

Everything about cancer is weird. Triple Negative weird.