The Bell

This morning I joined my father as he went to his final prostate cancer treatment at MGH. We were a little early for the appointment, and shortly after arriving a steady stream of older men joined us in the waiting room. I was introduced to many of the guys my father became friends with over the past two months.

As we gathered around each other in the waiting room, there were congratulations given to my father for finishing his treatments. They even presented him with a kitschy certificate that looked as if it was printed from word.

As my father slipped away to change into his hospital gown, the Actor mentioned that his wife planed a busy weekend for them in New York. The Professor talked about how can't fit into his 40 slim suits anymore. Someone else casually announces that although he is having some trouble sexually he still dreams of sex. "They can't take that away from you!", yells another man from around the corner. The veteran says that he only dreams of the war.

My father slips in and out of the treatment room, the treatment itself only takes minutes. After he's changed we make our way to a bell, which is strangely located in between the bathroom doors. My father begins an impromptu ceremony by reading the words on the plaque under the bell and then rings it three times. Pictures are taken, hands were shaken, and farewells are given.

I join my father and another man, Frank, for a quick coffee upstairs in the cafe. After getting our coffee and finding a free table and the conversion turns to more mundane topics like, the economy, work, and franks new house. A few minutes late I excuse myself so I can get to work by 9:30.

As I walk out of the hospital my mind drifts back to the men in the waiting room, my chances of becoming sick, and what life is about. I send a text message to my girlfriend.

"Miss you.....love you......can't wait to see you again"