I had wanted to spend the night talking and catching up with her, but she looked tired. With every passing moment, she looked as if she could just collapse from tiredness. As I was showing her pictures of my life and friends in Montreal, I could feel her eye lids closing.
"I'm sorry," mum said, "I'm so tired... Today is the first day, and tomorrow I'll feel better." The first day after the treatment, the drugs are starting to work, starting to give off side-effects. Starting to kill off those bad cells, and also to kill off those precious anti-bodies and white blood cells which sustain a person's immune system and vitality.
She got into bed, barely past nine in the evening, Christmas Eve. Not that Christmas or such holidays ever mean much to me, but still, it would be nice to stay up and talk and bond a little more. She lay down, pulled the covers over her shoulders, and leaned to one side.
I gave her a tight hug. "Don't worry, you just sleep well. We can talk whenever."
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