A Pocket Full of Quarters

　　Searra, an eight-year-old brain tumor patient, was a "regular" in the Radiation Oncology Department, much like the other patients who came to the cancer center everyday for a five- or six-week period. With my office located near the main entrance, I could hear Searra, also called CC, coming from a distance.

　　Sure enough, she popped her head in every morning around 10:00 A.M. to say "hi" or, more important, to check out the toys and coloring materials I had stashed in my office. Several steps behind, CC's grandmother, also called Mommie, since she served as her guardian, would trail in as she tried keeping up with CC's anxious pace.

　　CC was not the least bit interested in hearing more about her cancer or her hair loss. When she walked into the department, it was time to socialize with the staff, who became her instant friends, and to see what kind of masterpiece she could color for Mommie before she was called back for her treatment.