Tom Petty, the shaggy-haired rock icon of the late '70s, was right on in one of his all-time hits: The waiting IS the hardest part.

Especially when you have cancer and are waiting in a doctor's office. Or waiting to get swallowed whole into a giant imaging machine for your latest scan. Or waiting for that phone call for the results of an important test. You know, the one that says, "heads, you live; tails ... well, you get it."

Ever notice there are few, if any, clocks in oncology offices and cancer imaging centers? They remind me of casinos, which purposely don't have clocks on the walls because no one really wants you to realize how much time has elapsed. And many oncology offices and imaging centers don't serve drinks, except for juice or contrast solution to be swallowed before a CT scan.

Mine recently was mixed with Crystal Light, raspberry flavor, to make it more palatable. At least at a casino a waitress will bring you a vodka and orange juice as you sit at the roulette table gambling your money away.

But here, in the land of cancer, where the clock is perennially ticking, the stakes are much higher.

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A recent study from the National Cancer Institute found that $2.3 billion in wages is lost in waiting rooms, doctors' offices, hospitals and transportation in the first year after cancer is diagnosed. (That's 1.4 million new cases in the United States annually.)

Researchers looked at records from nearly 800,000 patients from 1995 to 2001 and examined 11 types of cancers, from kidney to lung to melanoma. Most of the patients were older Americans who might have been retired or not working full time.

People with gastrointestinal or ovarian cancers seemed to lose the most time, according to the study, published in the Journal of the National Cancer Institute last month. It estimated time lost and multiplied it by a 2002 median hourly wage of $15 to reach its findings.

For ovarian and gastrointestinal cancers, lost time was valued around $5,400 per person. On the other end of the spectrum, those with early skin and prostate cancers lost anywhere from $300 to $800 in the first year of diagnosis.

But to quantify time with a dollar value seems secondary when you are fighting for your life, which makes waiting that much more meaningful.

I have developed strategies to make the waiting more bearable. I bring a magazine to the doctor's office and try to engross myself in it and nothing else.

I don't look up, to my right or to my left. I don't want to see what is going on around me, the terrified faces.

What has really helped is bringing my iPod and completely tuning out, listening to my favorite songs. I have even crafted a playlist specifically for the waiting room, mixes of soothing Zen-like yoga music and angry rock.

I'm thinking I'll have to add Tom Petty.