Rock bottom

Kenji's blood levels are dropping and dropping. I find my love feeling more miserable than he has felt in the past eight months (since the last time he was in the neutropenic phase, in his first month of chemo). In spite of the cleanly mouthmasks and other precautionary measures, an insidious cold has caught him and a fever is lurking.

I sit as far removed from his hospital bed as the room will let me. Keeping my distance and breathing my own warm breath in and out through my mouthmask. I just wish I could help. Kenji is facing the fight of his life, óver and óver again. And he has to do it entirely by himself. Seeing him in this state hurts beyond words.

I cannot touch him, hug him or kiss him - which goes against my every instinct. After minutes of silence I hear his voice, very soft: "I can feel your love. I feel you are loving me."

Sometimes sitting is the most miraculous act of all.