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.