The Man in the Chair

Today I learned that a man in the chair next to me, during many of my treatments, died. His name and photograph on the obituary page were more than daily news to me, he was a cancer warrior like me. He shared a common disease. We received treatments at the same cancer center. We both shared our love for the Lord.

The mention of his wife’s name in the obituary reminded me of the kind woman who knitted constantly as she sat hour after hour, day after day, beside her husband, as he received his treatments. I never saw that man sit alone during his treatments. At last count, she had knitted twenty-something afghans. We would chit chat throughout our shared days and came to know each others’ situations and families.

As I have reflected so many times from my chair in the chemotherapy room, that small environment is reflective of the world around us. All different skin colors, sexes, religions, diseases, and attitudes sit in those chairs. Some are believers while others are not. A portion is fighting and a portion is giving up. The man in the chair never gave up. He was a brave warrior and he fought the good fight against a very bad disease called cancer. I am grateful that I know we will meet again in our Heavenly home. He knew what was more important than saving his physical body – it was being certain he was saved and his eternal life was destined.