After finishing my second round of chemotherapy for stage 4 Small Lymphocytic Lymphoma at a Los Angeles California hospital my wife and I took an elevator down to the pharmacy to stand in line so I could pick up my white blood cell booster shots.
As I wandered in sporting a blue and yellow mohawk I could see a couple curious eyes glancing at me. When I learned that I had cancer and would be receiving an aggressive chemotherapy treatment I decided that my hair would most likely fall out anyway so why not have a bit of fun with it before it did. So when I jumped in line wearing my face mask to help protect me from the nasty pharmacy germs and sporting a bright yellow and blue mohawk I received one or two odd looks.
Having stood in line for close to an hour I was now at the front of the line waiting to be beckoned by the pharmacist. A gentleman in front of me, who I would guess to be 80-90 years old, had just taken his place at the counter. He was relying on a cane to keep himself vertical and was wearing what appeared to be an old U.S. Army cap. I could hear the frustration in his voice as well as see it in his body language so I knew something was up. I was pretty close to him at this point, I wasn’t purposely eavesdropping but I couldn’t help but hear what was going on and was able to get the gist of the conversation. He had arrived at the pharmacy as he does every month so he could pick up his medications but this time something had changed. The issue was that one of his daily medicines had gone up in price since his last visit. He was explaining to the pharmacist that every month he pays exactly the same amount for his meds, he was on a fixed income and only brought enough cash to cover his usual bill. He explained that he may have a couple of dollars at home but having traveled across town on a bus it would not only be too time consuming to return home but he wasn’t confident that he had enough to pay for the meds as well as the extra expense of the additional bus trip. He told the pharmacist that he had only a couple of pills left at home but he wouldn’t have access to additional money for at least a week. There must have been at least 25 people in the line behind me and they were losing their patience, I could hear the impatient foot shuffling behind me and I heard one guy mumble that this guy should step away from the line so the people with money could be taken care of.
The aging Army Vet was very upset, his voice was quivering as much as the hand that was holding the cane, I could hear tears in his voice. The pressure from the disgruntled people behind me was palpable. I turned for a quick glance and saw not a single friendly face, just irritable scowls of impatience.
It was obvious that the guy was very distressed and it was equally obvious that he really needed his prescription. A look of compassion showed in the eyes of the pharmacist but there was nothing he could do to help. At this point I knew enough about the situation that I could not just stand by without stepping up to help this gentleman out.
I took a few steps forward and gently tapped the guy on the shoulder and apologized for interrupting. I kept my voice low so the conversation could be kept private and I explained that I was not having a very good day. I told him that I was a cancer patient and that I had spent this morning and the previous two mornings receiving chemo. I told him that I was feeling very overwhelmed and sad lately because everything I was having to go through. I explained that although this may be selfish of me I really needed to do something that would make me feel better, something that would put a smile back on my face. I asked if he would do me the favor of allowing me to pay for his prescriptions. The old man looked up at me and showed a hint of surprise in his eyes as he glanced at me, the masked mohawk man, and with a barely perceptible nod and a look of bemused skepticism he allowed me to continue. I asked the pharmacist what the total was for the prescriptions and was told that it was $45. I had $50 in cash on me and handed it over. As I glanced at the gentleman I could just barely see his eyes under the rim of his old Army Veteran Cap, what I could see was a look of frustration, embarrassment and possibly relief. I offered him a hand which he took in both of his and I thanked him for making my day a little bit brighter, he was at a loss for words but this was one of those moments where words were not necessary. I could see in his eyes that my small act of kindness had given him hope, he stood a little taller as he shuffled away and with a final glance over his shoulder and a tiny spring in his step he exited the building.
After he left the pharmacist also thanked me and told me that the man was an 89 year old Army Veteran and that without the meds he would have ended up in the hospital.
At that point I felt better than I had in weeks, the energy of love and thankfulness that was in that mans handshake and the look in his eyes really touched me more than I would have thought possible.
As I was leaving the pharmacy I had 2 other people speak up loudly and ask if I would pay for them, I didn’t say a word, as I left I held my blue and yellow mohawk high and quietly walked out of the pharmacy knowing that I was now as much a part of that gentleman’s life as he was mine, I have no idea who he was nor him me, but that day we left as friends.
I didn’t feel like a cancer patient, I felt like a super hero, it was amazing, the best feeling in the world only cost me $45!
Musings by OZ 