So Be It

Her body...ravaged, fevered, exhausted
She lies in the stillness of her hospital bed
Her tiny arm sprouting plastic tubing.
She has the knowledge
But no longer enjoys the energy or capacity
To advocate for herself.
She fights on
Determined not to let this endless repetition of unknown illness overtake her.
The hours and days roll by
Myriad drugs course through her veins
A seemingly futile attempt to attack
That which is proving defensible.
She feels the frustration of her doctors
Both unsure of the next path
More blood extracted from her
More attempts to grow the tiny beast that has hold of her.
She despairs in her bed
In her quiet stark hospital room.
By day she stands by the windows
She watches the fortunate well of the world go about their business
Do they spare a thought for those
That dwell within the hospital walls?
By night she lies alone listening to the sounds outside her door
The trolleys
The quiet night talk
She is alone with her thoughts
Thoughts of her children
Her self
Her survival
She sleeps briefly only to be disturbed by another round of toxins
Designed to heal, futile in the extreme.
A final test
Another scan
A hope that technology will provide answer
It comes
Finally, inevitably.
Her doctor is sober in mood as he enters the room
His relief is counterpoint to his troubled demeanor
He sits beside her
A brief silence hovers in the air
Before the worrying news is handed to her
Carefully, quietly
Her knows she understands
The implications a lead weight between them.
He knows she trusts him from his long years of care
He places his hands on her shoulders
Turns her gently to  face him
Holding her eyes with his own
He does not turn away from her glassy tears
He tells her
Directly
Honestly
Major surgery
Beyond my capability
Life threatening
Mortality rate
She hears the words, the statistics
There is no longer a choice
She has the surgery she has a chance
No surgery, no chance
She cries quietly
He stays with her
Till she has settled inside herself
Before he leaves
Arrangements to be made.
After a time
When the evening has come
Her husband visits
He senses not her anguish
He sees not her fears he cannot understand her terror
He is flippant in his disregard
She retreats inside herself.
She faces her fears and her mortality
Alone, lonely, terrified.
By the glow of her hospital night light
She harnesses her fear into action
She puts pen to paper
And writes her love and her dreams for her four children
Onto the lines of the paper
Weeping silently as she works
She does not write to he who left her alone with this.
The sun rises as does she
Her fear and terror reigned in now
A calm acceptance of this new thing life has brought to her
A realization that she has at least lived a purposeful existence
With compassion for others
With love and care for her family
And all those that have dwelt for a time within her world.

So be it!