Yet another story from the waiting room of the Carbone Cancer Center.

Went in for my first-of-seven shots today. Sitting, waiting to be called in, when I notice another old coot from Up Nort sitting a few chairs away, talking with a woman who may or may not have known him, or just been making conversation.

I’ll call him “Vern”.

A doc who seems familiar with Vern greets him. Vern volunteers that he allowed an extra 45 minutes to drive down today (in light of yesterday’s storm), and yet he was still 10 minutes late. The doc asks him how long it takes him to get to the clinic and he says, “it depends.” Well, doesn’t it always? “On what?” “On traffic.” “Oh.”

After a bit, Vern turns back to his friend and begins to bemoan the state of the world.

“People sure are changing,” he observes. “I let people come in to my garage (apparently he is a mechanic) and I work on their cars and they say they’ll come back and pay me. I did $300 worth of work for this one guy, and he hasn’t been in to pay me yet. I lent $300 to this one lady, and she’s only paid me $200 so far.”

“Oh, she’ll probably pay you the rest soon.” his friend responds. “I dunno about that,” says Vern, “I lent $700 to this other guy and I haven’t seen him in weeks. Plus, I keep my guns there, and people just come in and walk off with them while I’m working.”

I did NOT see that one coming.

“Can you believe that? I do all this work for these people and lend them money, and they just take my guns while I’m working on cars. Why would they think that’s OK?”

Well, I tried and I tried, and I wracked my brain, but I just could NOT think of how one might prevent people from walking off with one’s guns while one’s working. Perhaps there’s some kind of container, something that might prevent people from opening it and taking one’s guns? A man can dream.

So I was sitting there, imagining a stolen-gun crime spree about to happen in some podunk village in Northern Wisconsin, unwittingly driven by the kindly old mechanic who doesn’t know about door locks, when the nurse finally came out and called my name. I don’t think I’ve ever leapt out of my seat to head back as quickly as I did just then.

Six more days to go – what will I see, what will I learn, in that time? The mind reels.


3 thoughts on “Yet another story from the waiting room of the Carbone Cancer Center.

  1. It sound like an interesting book to me. Just need to put these stories together and publish. I hate to say it , but I can’t wait for your next infusion.

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