The oncology ward

The Oncology ward is sterile in a way that other areas of the hospital are not. Flowers are not permitted. Hand washing stations are everywhere, including just inside the entrance doors. HEPA filtered air flows through the entire floor. It is remarkably quiet. The occasional slip of noise escapes individual rooms as you walk the corridor. The doors to these rooms are decorated with scrapbooked posters that introduce the family member who is fighting cancer within. It is clear many of the patients here have been residents for a long time. There is a family kitchen and a playroom stocked with toys for the younger kids and books for children of all ages. The rooms are comfortable. There is a computer (Apple - woot!), a television (with cable channels), and a small cd player. The nurses are caring, efficient, and respectful. Not once has someone entered our room without first knocking, even when the door was partially open. The doctors are kept abreast of the patients in the ward. Just this afternoon, while taking Henry for a bit of a walk around the facility (confined to the 10th floor), we met a doctor we hadn't seen before and she already knew Henry's name and his current issue (neutropenia).

I've met and chatted with two other moms since we arrived. One has a son who has been in the ward for just over a year. His last day is next Tuesday. A small party is being planned for tomorrow night. This mom is eager to talk about her son's condition. She openly expressed a wish to meet other moms who had children with the same soft tissue cancer her son was fighting. The other has a son who was only recently diagnosed. He is getting a bone marrow transplant next week. This mom is quiet, reserved, and has the look of someone who is still suffering from shock. Her other son is an exact match so by all rights, this transplant should go smoothly.