Chemo Day

Imagine your loved one is suffering from a terminal illness.  Fighting off death valiantly, but suffering inconceivable agony while trying to forestall the inevitable. The  suffering is every day, but the agony arises several days every other week as a reaction. To the chemo.  Your loved one, after every single chemo, wants to quit. She tells you, quite seriously, she can't stand to suffer any more, her eyes pleading for you to rescue her. The misery slowly abates over several days, and she forgets just enough of the pain to keep going forward.

Banner day.  I went to my office. I spent several hours on the 54th floor, alone.  Creepy.

Jenny's chemo was today. She was sick tonight and is miserable.  I, otoh, have to sleep now. More later.

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