in a crowd of friendly professionals
masking desperate and exhausted
with awkward quips and acts of conspicuous competence.
As if I too
must earn my credentials;
A place at this
On the menu,
is my child.
Her comfort, her privacy, her hair…
Our resources, our energy, our sleep…
in five courses of medical necessity.
And for dessert:
Insatiable, uninvited guest.
Take what you want from me.
Just leave her
So here’s us, on the upswing after 2 horrible weeks. Mouth/throat sores are a special kind of hell. She’s now eating through a NG (nose) tube as we brace ourself for 3 more rounds of that particular chemo. 4 months down, 21 to go.