Hope

For the past several months, I've been thinking about the word Hope.  Maybe because in the last 10 months I have felt hope ripped away and then tentatively handed back, and have had to juggle it so precariously since then. So it seems perfectly natural and completely right that for this stage of my journey, I have found a place called Hope Lodge.  There are several Hope Lodges throughout the country.  The one I am staying at is in the Jamaica Plains section of Boston.  It is a place for people to stay when they are receiving cancer treatment in Boston and live too far to commute everyday. 
The Hope Lodge is free of charge, which is not only amazing, but to someone looking at her last remaining sick days running out soon, a complete Godsend.  Each guest gets their own suite complete with a small living room, a bathroom, and a bedroom with two beds, in case you want to have a caregiver stay with you.  There is a big community dining room with 4 kitchens and everyone is responsible for their own food and meals, but usually some group, corporation, or charity sponsors a catered dinner a few nights a week.  A van takes us to and from appointments daily, also free of charge. Google it...it is pretty awesome!
I was not sure what to expect as I was driving to the Hope Lodge two weeks ago.  I was pretty apprehensive about "communal living" with a group of people I didn't know...college was a long time ago and I'm not a teenager anymore!  I was afraid I would find a depressing place with an even more depressing group of people.  What I found, instead, was an incredible place filled with truly amazing, wonderful people.  Within two days, I met people who I know will be in my life forever.  The courage and inspiration that fills those walls humbles me every day.  And because we are all battling the same demon, there is an understanding that makes me feel completely at home.  Don't get me wrong, my friends, family, coworkers, EVERYONE has been great to me and has tried to understand what I am going through.  But really, unless you are "in the club", so to speak, you can't really know.  I think that is why I have come to view the Hope Lodge as my haven.  There, I don't feel like "cancer girl."  My situation is the norm, not the exception. We can talk about chemo and radiation and REALLY understand what they are.  We can commiserate about the side effects of treatment.  We talk about how lucky we are to be in Boston...many of the guests there are receiving the same Proton Beam Radiation I am, and they come from all over the United States.  It comforts me to realize that if people are coming from California, Michigan, and Ohio it is a treatment I am lucky to be close to. But because we all (except the caregivers) have cancer, we mostly don't feel the need to even talk about it beyond the initial "what kind do you have" conversation.  We talk about everyday things, like the weather.  We watch movies together and talk about cute actors. We talk about our families and how much we miss them, and how some of us are lucky enough to go home for the weekends while others are lucky to have a spouse, sibling, or parent staying with them.  We text each other our treatment schedules so we can eat dinner together.  Last weekend, when the blizzard hit while I was home, I had texts asking how I was and did I need any help getting back for my next treatment?  Ah, I truly love these people! They have made my separation from my family bearable.  I love how when we get off the van at the hospital and go our separate ways for our appointments someone invariably says, "See you back at the Lodge!" like we are on vacation together at a fine resort.  It may not be a resort, and I'm certainly not on vacation, but the Hope Lodge has come to feel like a home-away-from-home.  It, and the people in it, have given me hope that things will turn out okay, that I will turn out okay.  And I have come to realize how very important that is, because if you don't have hope, you really don't have anything. 
I'll be talking to you...