2
" It hit me hard today, Winnie. I can't believe I'll have to do this chemotherapy thing again. Three more times. I feel like crap."
What could I possibly say? It had been a bad day for Nancy. The phlebotomist who normally draws Nancy's blood was off, and her replacement "missed" the first two times. She had to stand to have a chest X-ray even though she felt particularly weak. And she had to give three different urine specimens. By late morning, fever and chills were return visitors to Room 842. Nancy had no energy to walk. She even turned down her daily shower, too tired to make another trip to her bathroom.
"You know, Nancy, the day before yesterday, when Chuck and I took our mountain bake ride, we went on a brand new trail in Round Valley. It was really hard for me. But yesterday, we rode the same trail. And it wasn't so bad. Actually it was almost easy. Your treatments will be like that."
Nancy grabbed my hand between both of hers. There were fewer wrinkles on her forehead than moments before. Her eyes speak volumes and I couldn't speak. I didn't need to. For once, I chose the correct words. She smiled, closed her eyes and feel asleep. "
― , Night Reflections: A True Story of Friendship, Love, Cancer, and Survival
6
" Dr. Winn, Nancy is about as sick as a person can be. I don't know if we will be able to get her into remission." He paused, momentarily looked out the window, and before reengaging, took a quick gasp-like breath that could be heard across the room. "If we can't achieve remission, she won't last the week . . . I am so very sorry."
His definitive words were like the period at the end of the sentence. Final. No, they were worse. They were like the space after the period at the end of a sentence at the end of the paragraph at the end of the essay. Nothing more to add. Nothing more to say. "
― , Night Reflections: A True Story of Friendship, Love, Cancer, and Survival
