Pil(l)ing up

Remember last Friday? The yet-another-bad-news-day? It was complication time. An expected complication, nevertheless one that makes you hold your breath. In hindsight that's the stupidest thing to do, because to stop breathing isn't going to get you anywhere.
Complications after a stem cell transplantation are the foremost reason to give up and stick with good ol' chemo. The morbidity ánd mortality risks are never far - yet people often forget that each day of cancer is one of living with high risk.

So Kenji has acute graft versus host disease that is manifesting itself in his bowels. Newly transplanted cells are attacking Kenji's body... The only way to look at the disease, is as 'nothing unexpected' and so I start to breathe again after a few days.

Pills, and more pills, imply side effects, and more side effects. My preferred antidote to Kenji's tumultous mind? A dress. The Maison Scotch dress I wore at our last dinner in La Rive. If I am meant to shine, then I better do it as elegantly as I can. All good intentions aside, in the end it isn't the dress that does the trick. Two cars, one of Little Brother at Kenji's left and one of Big Brother at Kenji's right side of his bed, perform miracles.