Corner of calm

I have never liked hospitals, even before I was a patient. They smell of illness. They are rammed full of medicalised equipment; a combination of sterility and chaos. The waiting rooms are the worst. In the breast cancer unit, the chairs are 'breast cancer pink' in patone. Therefore, pre-diagnosis, even sitting on them is a foreboding experience. You feel doomed even before your biopsy. In the breast care unit (below ground floor with no natural light), the TV is never turned off. It runs one type of inane show - the type with canned laughter and humourless comedy. It infiltrates my thoughts. I can't think. I read, I can't work. I can't even drown it out with earbuds. It is here that I dread the delays most.

Heading into the reception areas of various outpatient units, I feel exposed. Your name, date of birth, treatment or concern, and even phone number, are revealed to all by a receptionist who stopped enjoying her job a few decades ago. Architectural and interior design choices prevent the possibility of privacy. Cancer has stripped away the possibility of dignity in treatment, but even in waiting rooms, there is none.

In my usual oncology treatment unit, the waiting room is tiny, maybe there are eight chairs with leatherette covers that have seen much better days. I try not to stick my fingers in the holes that would add to the damage. On most days there are people standing awkwardly for up to 45 minutes at a time. Old people surround me with hacking coughs. It is ironic really - when I commute into London for work I avoid the tube as I am immunocompromised. At a spin class, I have access to cleaning materials. So, I presume that waiting for treatment at hospital is where I am most at risk of illness. There is so little room available, but someone has managed to fit in a bookcase, seemingly only with DVDs and bonkbusting romances - I feel further squeezed out of the space I find myself in by this disconnect. But round the corner, outside the waiting room is the most magnificent window. Running floor to ceiling, you can see the woods outside. It brings a much needed freshness, a glimpse of freedom, calm, and beauty. So, despite my need to get on with work, lap top ready, I refuse to sit, but stand up and stare.