Hospital Parking Lots
Today’s radiation treatment went smoothly except for the parking garage was full. How does that happen? The entire hospital is full? The hospital parking garage is actually one of the worst parts of my whole cancer experience. I’m not normally a road rage sort of person, but there is something about people going inhumanely slow in a confined space that really brings out the worst in me. The bad drivers are like decrepit, mentally-challenged, self-absorbed zombies driving huge ass gas-guzzling Lincolns and Cadillacs up and down the aisles going 3 M.P.H. in an attempt to unhinge everyone driving behind them. Seriously, it sometimes takes me fifteen minutes to meander around to find a parking spot in the five story parking lot. And when you go to the hospital five times a week, that is a lot of zombie encounters.
Only two days out of the six has some poor cancer lady’s clothes occupied MY locker. Friday, there were beige clothes at the bottom of locker # 13. I put my coat, bra and top on the hooks and decided that the cancer lady with the beige top would assume the lady with the red coat (mine) was a far-sighted idiot and just didn’t see beige clothes at the bottom of the only occupied locker in the room.