We sat side by side waiting for our names to be called. My right hand held his left, and rested on his left thigh. I glanced in his direction, but he was distracted—looking at the clock for the third time in five minutes. Waiting to see the doctor on chemotherapy days was never fun, but especially when we waited to hear lab results to know if the poisonous torture was making a difference. [more]
Dr. Michelle Bengtson
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