Its Not About The Hair – Debra Jarvis (1)

It was temporary because at some point a much bigger wig than I would be hired, and she or he would move in there. Actually, I wasn’t even a wig—more of a hairpiece. This office not only had a window, but a small round table with two chairs, a long expanse of desk space and a giant filing cabinet. Space was at a premium at the clinic. Think apartments in Manhattan. So it was unbelievable that the chaplain would get this fabulous space.

How did I get this office? The manager of that floor took pity on me because she heard how one day I was wandering through the clinic like Moses in the Sinai, looking for a place to have a confidential conversation with a terminally ill patient. But she warned me that I could be tossed out at any moment. “Just like life,” I said. At first I just brought in my desk supplies and protein bars. I was afraid to really move in, because who knew when I would be asked to move out?

Then one day, one of the infusion nurses stopped by and said, “Debra, you need to fully inhabit this office! It’s all yours.” She was right. I knew I was going to die someday, but that didn’t stop me from living. So what was I waiting for? I hung some art, and brought in a lamp, a table runner, my raku jar, and a teapot with Japanese teacups.

I made tea for everyone who came in for an appointment. We sat at the little round table and talked. People loved it because it didn’t feel medical. It felt special. I loved every moment in that office and was so glad that I moved in. Two months later I was diagnosed and then off six weeks recuperating from surgery.

A few days before I was to return, I received a voice mail telling me that they had just hired someone who would be taking the office and that I needed to vacate. Wes helped me move out, filling a box with my books and emptying the desk drawers. I was wrapping my raku jar in bubble wrap. This was a gift from my hospice team, and they had filled it with their written blessings.

Making a Plan and Checking It Twice Death Doesn’t Take a Holiday Four – THE PORT REPORT Reconstruction You’re Not Dead Yet Cheerful or Fearful? The Theory of Relativity Bad Luck, Sorrow, and Grief Bratitude It’s Only Temporary Five – CHEMO SAVVY The Angle on Angels Caring for Our Own An Angel by Any Other Name I Walk Therefore I Am What’s in a Name? The Housecreeper Six – TRIED IN VEIN Global Warming Letting People off My Hook Wedding Break Meltdown Moment Breast-fed Seven – A WHITE BLOOD CELL CHRISTMAS Promise Breaker To See for Herself Early Parole Great Lengths Promise Keeper Eight – INFUSED WITH THANKS Uncharted Territory Last Pill and Testament Rock Music A Bride in Me Sighed Effects The Peanut Is Brittle Nine – FLASH IN THE PAN Growth Spurt The Days of Wine and Chocolate The Port Authority Plenty Papayas Ten – RIB, RIB, HOORAY!

Beginnings and Endings Chemo Forever Like a Virgin Son Stroke Son Light Now What? Acknowledgements ABOUT THE AUTHOR Copyright Page OceanofPDF.com OceanofPDF.com For Wes, my one and only. OceanofPDF.com INTRODUCTION I am the general oncology outpatient chaplain at the Seattle Cancer Care Alliance (SCCA). I see patients who are receiving chemotherapy, getting radiation, having their blood drawn, or waiting to see their oncologists. I was in my fourth year at the SCCA when I received the upsetting news that my mother had been diagnosed with breast cancer.

However, I didn’t have much time to be disturbed about it because five days later I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I couldn’t decide if her case or mine was the most disturbing, so I settled on being equally disturbed about both. Still, like having your car break down when you work at an auto repair shop, I thought if you had to have cancer, it was pretty convenient to work at a place that treats it.

“But you’re the chaplain! You should be immune!” I heard this from a lot of outraged people, as if I had some special spiritual protection. So what if I’m the chaplain? I’m a Christian, the faith that’s all about the crucifixion of the guy who is considered the Son of God! I mean if the Son of God can’t get a break, why should I?

I’m only the chaplain. So I chose to have my surgery and chemotherapy at the University of Washington, the medical center affiliated with SCCA. During my first appointment with my oncologist she made it clear she completely understood if I wanted to go elsewhere if I felt uncomfortable or for reasons of privacy. “Why,” I asked, “would I not want to be treated at a place that is filled with people I know and love?

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

Book Information

• Unique ID: 140000104658d8a3
• File Extension: .pdf
• File Size: 1,576,339 bytes (1.503 MB)
• Title: –
• Author: Unknown
• Pages: 342
• Language: English (en)

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