Swabbing the mucous out of your mouth in SLC. Watching the big blood machine take your blood out, cycle it through and put it back inside you. Turning on the showers that I wasn’t supposed to use and letting them runrunrun to make it so your room wasn’t so damn dry all the time, even if the nurses wanted to tell on me. Being terrified of your crazy fevers, worried I would lose you, at any moment. You, standing at the window in SLC and waving at your brothers and sobbing when they left. The day we got home from SLC and you fell into his arms and sobbed for joy at being home with him and your brothers. The day we told you the cancer was back and stronger and the BMT hadn’t worked and you sat on his lap and stared into his eyes. Taking baths together. The pain of not being able to hold you because you hurt so much. Finally getting to hold you because the meds were so heavy and you were finally comfortable which meant that you were going to die and I could finally touch you and hold you. Off to therapy I go.
Posted on: Tue, 03 Jun 2014 16:27:52 +0000
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