How to beat the lonely medical center kiosk blues

Well I have stumbled through my last 5 treatments, keeping a stiff upper lip to handle something new and painful messing with me at every turn. So while I was waiting outside the coffee kiosk in the medical center where I got my morning dose of radiation, I decided to pretend I was normal and order a vanilla latte frappe (blended latte with ice). I already know that I can't taste it, and that cold stuff doesn't get very far down my throat before it gets denied. But I go ahead and order the frozen latte. I got an hour to kill before the chemo infusion, the sun is shining through last night's rain storm, and I'm kinda wondering what would happen with a little caffeine in my angelic system since it's been over a month without caffeine or alcohol. 

I take a small chunky sip of frozen coffee and vanilla syrup, and... yeah, I can't taste it. Why did I think it would different? I didn't. Just wanted to work with it, pick at it, have something keep me company in the lonely medical center kiosk. I was listening to some old Depeche Mode album, thinking about the 80's, and smiling on the inside.

I took my frozen friend with me up to the chemo center, then tossed him into the trash as I entered the elevator. No food or drink allowed where you're going, bro. Once inside I was shown to a quiet private room in the back (thanks to my killer nurses who take special care of me!), and got plugged in for my next infusion session. I slept through most of the quiet "drip drip drip" sounds of the poison being pushed ever so gently into my system, awakening to the random interruption of someone else's monitor alarms beeping. Time to change the bags.

Ground Hog's day will continue tomorrow morning, and repeat 5 time more before I will be done with this phase. Thanks for listening!