By Geja Hadderingh
The surgeon’s stern expression prepares me for his analysis.
His words, “It’s touch and go,” drill deep and sharp.
Avoiding his eyes, I ask if I can see her.
“Only briefly. Sorry.”
He walks with me through the quiet corridor.
Swaddled in stiff white sheets, she sleeps peacefully.
Months of poisoning, zapping, and slicing are finally taking their toll.
She never claimed to be “bravely fighting…” No, her breasts have simply been the battlefield for a war without winners; medics versus nature.
Leaning over, I gently stroke my fingers across her cheeks, then quietly leave the ward.
I touch and go.
I was very moved by this story. Well done!
“battlefield for a war without winners”- very good description of such a dire situation.
Very moving.
Agree!
Yes I agree. A battlefield description is apt for this.
I agree with Bud that “battlefield for a war without winners” is an amazing line. The story is so touching especially to anyone that has had a love one battle cancer.