spring break - day 6

Everything runs late this day - the doctor, the pharmacy, the chemo.  Add to that an annoying yet equally unproductive meeting with a social worker and there's an air of impatience and urgency.  Precious time is evaporating and my brother is confined in a hospital.  Don't they realize how invaluable time is to us?  Two hours later, the chemo starts.  Only 30 minutes long,  mercifully a short infusion.  I watch the Gemzar drip and it's hypnotizing me.  It follows a pattern of drip,drip,drip......drip,drip,drip......drip,drip,drip.....drip,drip.....drip,drip,drip.  The pump then registers just 10 milliliters left. 

Outloud, I recite the slow countdown.  10.......9........8..........7........6......5.......4.......3.......2.....1.......0........  At zero, my brother's eyes close tightly to hold back tears and a fist raises up off the bed in defiance.  I squeeze his fist and in that moment, everything stops in a surreal moment.  The moment only lasts a few seconds but it feels an eternity in my mind.  My senses become supersensitive to everything around me - the temperature in the air, the look on my brother's face, the beeping of the pump to alert the nurse that the drug is delivered, everything.  I then realize that I'm probably squeezing his hand far too hard but he offers no complaint.  I let go before I hurt him.

Now we wait......