gloves, scarves, all propped up in chairs, covered in blankets, drips
attached to ports. Airplane-sizes mini TVs at every station, also
loved ones. Our nurse is Indian with pink lipstick, elaborate henna
tattoos on one hand, utterly beautiful. John is charming and smiley
with her. She explains every drug, potential side-effects, tells him
to drink fluids, offers apple or pineapple juice. There is jasmine tea
and honey too.
Chemo can make you feel intensely cold, she says, you may need to keep
a pair of mittens by the fridge to take out the milk. The man next to
us is sticking band-aids onto the tips of his fingers. John hasn't
lost his hair, doesn't wear a cap. It's noisy here but he sleeps,
wakes up intermittently, blows me a kiss, falls back to sleep.
Thoughts, prayers, hope and love to you and your family. What a cruel disease cancer is. xx
ReplyDeleteThanks Charlie. It's a funny old experience. Wasn't sure whether or not to write about it but then I think it gives the bloody cancer too much power when you avoid it. I made friends today in the chemo ward. It was really amazing in an incredibly odd way. Love,
ReplyDelete-- Miss W