The elderly doctor sitting in for my husband’s young radiation oncologist knew what we needed to hear: “Pancreatic cancer likes to come back early if it’s going to come back. The longer it’s gone, the less chance you’ll see it again. By two years, there is very little likelihood it will return.”
Suddenly, we had a signpost.
A Mile Marker in the Dark Read More »
My third summer, I was 30 months old, sitting with my older brother on a warm brick stoop. Mother brought us an ice pop. Two wooden sticks, two sides to the treat, broken in half—one half for my brother, one half for me. Sticky orange or red melted on our hands and faces. Then, one day, for an unknown celebration, two halves for each of us!
I moved through my work with steady precision. One hundred and eighty-three scripts accomplished, one technician and I, alone on a Saturday. This, plus the order needed to be put away. And the phone kept ringing. And there was a steady stream of questions and counseling on how to use medications correctly.
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