The Infusion Room is Not a Playground

9 times out of 10, the infusion nurses can't help but tell me how well behaved my children are. But not this day. No, this special day was that 1 out of the 10 that left me daydreaming about things like sending Merrick off to boarding school.

My nurse-of-the-day usually tells me tales of children that lack the social graces that I have beaten instilled into their pliable little minds, while I sit in the infusion chair, shooting them evil glares while raging fire shoots from my ears and boiling blood is drawn from my port.

I just give her a pleasant smile and nod, while quietly reflecting on the threat of violence firm boundaries I put in place before walking into the oncology office. Clearly she wasn't with me at Target 30 minutes prior, when their behavior was escalating to the level of wild banshees and I was internally screaming "This is why I never take them anywhere together in public!"

Parenting is a challenge. Parenting with cancer just adds a little gasoline to the fire.

This is not a playground!
Inside voices!
People are sleeping!
12 inches apart! Everyone sit on their butt and stay a foot apart!

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