Week two is in the books and everyone keeps asking how I feel. The first feeling that crosses my mind is, lonely. I miss my family more than I thought possible. The hugs, the noise and chaos, the unconditional love. I miss my husband’s conversation and snuggles with E. I miss my home. I miss my heart. We are (hopefully) halfway through this but it seems like an eternity.

So what do I do to combat this? I cook. There are so many staying with me that are battling cancer on many fronts. I walk past tears and quiet hugs in the great room and hear sickness through doors. So I cook for them to make sure they eat, feel support, and not worry about things like what’s for dinner. And it’s selfish, it gives me comfort to take care of everyone while I am away from my everything.

There’s a young man that is here on and off. His wife fought and beat leukemia. But now there are suspicious spots on her brain. They are in their early 30s and have 2 young children. He likes spaghetti.

My neighbor’s down the hall are two crabby, penny pinching boomers. He has stage 4 multiple myeloma and is undergoing stem cell treatment. He can’t really eat anything without feeling sick. They love my meatloaf and mashed potatoes.

There was a young woman who came as a support for her father who is in the hospital fighting cancer. She left after a day because COVID restrictions have her unable to be with him. She liked my soup.

And at the heart of it….our front desk mama. She bakes all day, does wash, cleans rooms, answers phones, and provides a hug to anyone who needs it. I hug her multiple times a day. She loves my cheesesteak hoagie almost as much as I love her cookies!

So when I’m asked how are things going, I generally say good or ok. Because in reality, things are good and I’m doing really well with treatment. I’m able to go home every weekend and I can still see my loved ones. I’m able to enjoy lunch with my friends and shop at stores. I’m able to swim with E and talk candles with Chris. And I’m able to add a smile to some pretty shitty situations for strangers now neighbors.

I’m halfway. And that’s something to be thankful for.