Bingo!

The last Tuesday of every month a volunteer group comes to Hopkins and puts on a little bingo game for the patients who happen to be couped up at the time. I either never crossed paths with this event or was simply unaware it was going on when I was here at other times.

"Bingo?", you ask. Well without getting into the merits and drawbacks of the game itself, lets just say I'm not opposed to a good game of bingo (though it sure is more exciting when you play for cash prizes). This event, of course, were for pretty simple prizes that would mean something to cancer patients or July 4th themed trinkets.

When the announcement went out regarding bingo I thought for a bit and decided to go. After all, I keep lamenting about how bored I am as an inpatient . . .I certainly hadn't played bingo yet.

I meandered out of my room a few minutes before the start and followed another patient with her nurse escort. She clearly had mobility issues, but in this place you come to admire those that continue to press on with what they want to do despite some profound physical limitations or degradations.When I got to the room where they were holding bingo I deftly guided my medicine pole around the table and chairs to take a seat away from the door to make room for all the others who would come. My fellow traveler was helped into a chair at a table right by one of the two doorways into the room.

The blood cancer unit takes up the entire 5th floor of the Weinberg building and is comprised of 4 units labeled A,B,C,D. Each unit contains 15 beds. As far as I know bingo was open to all 4 units. I don't really know what I was expecting in terms of attendance. I probably didn't have enough time to actually contemplate that. But as patients arrived, or more appropriately didn't arrive, I was amazed to find that only 4 patients opted for something new to do.

It started me thinking. Is this a referendum on bingo? Or perhaps I ought to feel thankful to be in my physical condition that such 'activities' are an option for me? Obviously the answer is that it is probably a combination of both. Bingo is a silly, elementary game and admittedly can drone on a bit. But I would bet that there were a few patients that were in no condition to make the simple walk to play bingo, even if they were yearning for something different to do. Everything in perspective . . .

I guess I'll let everyone know that I won twice. Both times I picked out things for the kids--trinkets really, but it will be nice to return home with a peace offering for all they endure as a result of my cancer and the resulting hospitalizations.

I also want to share a somewhat bizarre moment from bingo. During the bingo game the patient I followed to the room was joined by what I would assume was her husband. At one point about halfway through (30 minutes) there was a bit of a commotion coming from where she was seated. I recall now that she seemed nervous about going to bingo in the first place based on the number of reassurances the nurse was giving to her as we walked to the room. At any rate, as I looked over at her it was clear that she wanted nothing more of bingo. She muttered something about feeling paranoid and needed to get up. Her mobility issues made it difficult for her to get out of the folding chairs we were sitting on.

All the while, the person calling out the bingo numbers kept right on going as if nothing was going on. So for the remaining few in the room, we were torn between what was going on with a fellow patient and marking the dots on our bingo cards!

In truth, I'm certain that patients trying to help move other patients is prohibited, so I don't feel too bad that I didn't get up and help. One of the other volunteers did the right thing and ran to get her nurse, who came quickly to assist the patient. Between the nurse and the husband they were able to get her up out of the chair but only after I heard the husband say "you have to push with your legs."

I must be thankful for what has not been taken from me as a result of all this. I can choose well for myself what I want to do (when I have a choice). I remain physically well, despite the disease. And finally, for all the chemicals that have been pumped into my system over the past two years I retain the mental faculties, more or less, that I entered this process with.

Who knew an hour of bingo would yield an opportunity for a bit of introspection and, if you distance yourself, a bit of humor. Glad I went.

As always, thanks for reading.

--Russ.