Me and My Disk Are Old Friends

I handed the woman behind the kiosk my valet parking ticket for validation and she looked at me and said “Do you have an appointment with the clinic today?” I looked her in the eyes and wittingly responded with, “I just come here to get free parking and pass the time of day.” Apparently she did realize that I was a regular clinic customer of almost two years standing.

I was at the clinic to get my first vaccine with the new research study. The first order of business was to have blood drawn to check my PSA level and other attributes. Oncology is always an interesting place to sit and wait. I took notice of all the people who were there, waiting, along with me. A couple was there from Waupun. The man took notice of my shirt and asked how I was affiliated with Grambling. I told him that I attended college there and graduated in 1968. I commented that he probably wasn’t born yet. But he came back with, “that was the year my daughter was born.” He was being treated for prostate cancer. Nurse Dottie came out to check on how I was doing. He said hello to her like they were old friends.

The blood draw station was running about 45 minutes behind schedule, but people were waiting patiently. Some were knitting, some were reading, while others just sitting staring into space. Nonetheless, everyone was cordial and patient. The man from Waupun commented that on Mondays he and his wife didn’t plan anything else for the day except medical appointments at the clinic and VA hospital.

Another couple, sitting near me was from Janesville. The woman brought knitting to pass the time while she waited for her husband; a sure sign that they weren’t neophytes to this. They had been waiting 45 minutes to have his blood drawn. She commented to the woman from Waupun that she had brought the wrong kind of yarn and was doubling it to make it work. She and the woman from Waupun were talking about what they did when their husbands got “cranky.” The woman from Waupun said she had been married to him too long to let it bother her and that she just ignored him. The Janesville woman said that she just walks away for him when he starts acting crazy.

When you check in at the waiting areas at UW Hospitals you get a spaceship looking disk, with lights across the top that vibrates and buzzes when it’s your turn. The disk was the one thing everyone there had in common. Otherwise we were all different ages, from different cities, had different illnesses, different skin colors, and different sexes. But the disk didn’t care who you were. You get it, hold on to it, sit down and wait your turn. The man from Waupun had just returned from the VA Hospital when his cell phone ranged. I jokingly asked, “How did you get that funny sounding disk?” He said, “You have to know somebody.” He answered the phone but it was a wrong number call. A little later my disk started vibrating and buzzing and the woman from Waupun said to me, “You didn’t have to wait long, you must know someone.” I smiled and said, “Me and my disk are old friends, and have been hanging out together for a while.”

After having blood taken, Dottie and I headed up to the 6th floor to the General Clinical Research Center. On the way there we went through chemotherapy to drop off a patient’s file. It was here that I was grimly reminded that this place is for sick people; that cancer is sickening. Not being there for three weeks I had forgotten. I deplore being reminded.

On to the 6th floor were I met Mary who was to give me the vaccine. In addition to giving vaccines, they do research on sleep disorders, asthma, the heart and other neat research stuff.

The vaccine wasn’t ready yet. In the meantime, Mary wanted to check my weight, pulse, temperature and blood pressure. She asked how I was doing. I said “I am doing just fine.” She replied, “That’s good.” For some reason I didn’t think my response was what she was anticipating. I think she was accustomed to hearing all the gory symptoms people she saw were experiencing. I assured her that I did not have any symptoms, pains or otherwise complaints; that I felt absolutely great.

Now, this not the first time I had been asked, “How are you doing?” Sometimes after I answer, I say to myself, “Am I suppose to be feeling something else? “Maybe I’m really sick and don’t realize it.” I just feel weird when I answer the question and then see the look on people faces.

Mary, the 6th floor nurse, wanted to know all about me, where I was from and how I ended up in Madison. I told her I was from the Delta and she didn’t have any idea where that was. I told her it was near Vicksburg, Mississippi and she knew where that was. She once visited Alexandria and spent some time in Natchez touring the antebellum plantation homes. She said she was overwhelmed with the amount of poverty, the difference between the “haves” and the “have nots.”

The DNA vaccine is not made up ahead of time. It is specifically made for each research participant. It finally arrived and I was anxious to get on with it. Mary made sure I was comfortable and my left arm was relaxed. It’s kind of hard to be relaxed when you are about to get three needles. I did the best I could under the circumstances. The shots were like a TB test. Just under the skin. They didn’t hurt but burned. I ended up with three small bumps. Mary told me to watch the bumps for the next 48 hours and record how they looked, if they became red, irritated or bigger. She gave me a form to record my symptoms.

In all it was a good experience. While it took more time than I expected, and the clinic was depressive, I feel good about participating. Who knows, maybe this research study will lead to some profound answers.

Life is all good!