Side effects

Sometimes I'd silently stand by her bed and watch her sleep. Watch her rest. Watch her recover, if ever that is possible. The top of her head has grown a little grayer. Even the faded dye cannot hide the passage of the seasons, and time slowly creeping, ticking away. Her cheeks have grown thinner, and her eye lids more layered. Perhaps from age, or perhaps from fatigue. On her face, patches of freckles have appeared where there were none before. As people get older, they get freckles. But the more chemo people get, the more freckles they get too. I cannot tell which from which.

And sometimes I'd lie by her side, and feel the faint beating of her heart. Quietly so as not to wake her, I'd reach out to touch the tips of her fingers. Fingers, thumbs, toes, the ends of which have become increasingly numb. Worsened when she touches cold things, she says, and worsened also when the weather suddenly becomes cold and damp, like it has been recently. All part of the side-effects, which more and more are taking over, and more and more are prolonged. It will take two years for all the effects to completely go away. I try to imagine what that numbness, that tingling sensation must feel like. Is it like putting your fingers in the socket? Or the feeling of hitting your funny bone, only more permanent? While reaching out to touch the tips of her fingers, I'd wish that those uncomfortable sensations would leap into my body and stay with me instead of her.

"Don't worry about me," she'd say, "I'll be alright. When you're not here, I still have to manage on my own."

And so I will leave, and soon she will be on her own.