Eleven and Counting

Chemotherapy day. Again. Kevin is alternating between work and sleep here at the clinic. I am doing my best guard dog routine as I watch over him, double check medicines and schedules with the nurses.

Kevin would have liked a little encouragement to cancel today's treatment. He's tired of it all--the always present sick feeling, the bad taste in his mouth, the nerve damage in hands and feet, the fatigue.

We sat out in the garden of the clinic for a few minutes before his infusion was started. I always wonder what he's thinking when he sits there like that...who he sees reflected in the water after a year of so many changes.