31 Days of Living Art: "Me too."

There was a constant reminder of the sweetness of "me too" today.  

This afternoon, I sat with my Uncle during some of his last chemo treatment, because my Aunt went to my cousin's follow up appointment for his back surgery.  My Uncle was really sleepy, so he napped most of the time.  I was perfectly okay with that, because I don't mind just sitting.  I don't feel uncomfortable in hospital settings, it's like my second home.  I people watched and I read a good book.  And I did a lot of praying in the 4 hours that I sat.  My mom came and he woke up for about an hour and we talked awhile.  

I had never spent time in a chemotherapy room before today.  This room was big and open and there were chairs everywhere and you could see everyone and everything.  It was weird to me because in the ER I'm so used to trying to keep everyone separate and protect privacy and not break HIPAA.  

But what stood out to me was the interaction between the patients because of the open room.  They don't do this chemo alone.  Maybe not, but I'm sure there's something comforting about seeing other people going through chemotherapy, knowing this is someone else's every day life too, not just yours.  I can sit with my Uncle for hours, but I don't know what it's like to undergo chemotherapy.  But the man sitting across from him, he knows.  Someone started throwing up while I was sitting there, and another patient gave them a knowing look.  They said "I know.  I've been there.  It sucks.  I'm sorry." with one look and an empathetic half-smile.   They said "Me too."  

Tonight I spent some more time with my friend Taylir.  We sat in her living room and talked for 2.5 hours and it was one of the most refreshing nights ever.  I somehow started talking about how I feel like I suck at being a grown up some days (most days) and still trying to figure out budgeting and grown up words like "equity" and student loans and work and everything else about being a grown up that I'm trying to learn.  I was embarassed, really, but Taylir just looked at me and said "Me too!!"  Then we just laughed and swapped scenarios of areas where we are learning hard lessons about being adults and how much it's a beautiful mess.  I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my chest.  I didn't feel so alone.  

There are numerous new nurses that I'm close friends with, and most of the time we spend together we talk about struggles we've had as a new nurse.  We repeat over and over, "Me too."  

Christmas is a time I'm reminded of God saying "Me too."  

I heard this song tonight, and now I can't get it out of my head.  

"A baby’s cry is the sound of love come down

Come down Emmanuel
He is the song for the suffering
He is Messiah, the prince of peace has come
He has come Emmanuel

For all who wait
For all who hunger
For all who’ve prayed
For all who wonder
Behold your King
Behold Messiah
Emmanuel, Emmanuel"

I can't help but feel deep down inside that Jesus coming to Earth was God's way of saying, "Me too." 

You've been broken, beaten, rejected, suffered, tempted, frustrated, unwanted?   So was Jesus...Me too.  

Me too.  It resonates in chemotherapy rooms, Jesus coming to Earth, late night talks with friends.  

Me too.  Those two little words that can break a loneliness that runs deep.  It gives us hope.  "Me too" is art because it unites us and art is better when it isn't made alone, when it's shared, right?