A Filtered Ray

A filtered ray, thru a white curtain or a dirty window glass, now feels like a vacation. Just to realize that the memory one has of a sunny day can be lived again, is a good feeling. Till tomorrow. When you start wondering again if you will feel that gentle caress, warm upon your cheeks. When a warm July day becomes a goal to experience. When a greasy hamburger is all you dream about on those interminable nights cadenced by the beeping of the infusion pump.

A tour of the paediatric floor in a wheel chair is true liberation. It is also a time when things receive their deserved perspective. A craniotomy patient receives more attention then a kid with hemolytic disease. Even if the craniotomy scars will soon be covered by dark hair and the whole experience will be remembered thru the photo album only.

There is no distress on the paediatric floor. Just adults who are grateful; and kids who hope they will not miss school. Because school is where other kids hide their scars. Even the scars they have yet to endure.


The lungs are full, mostly of blood. The rosy cheeks are now yellow and waxy. Long fingers, once my joy to kiss, are too tired to hold a #2 pencil. The hope to draw again is gone. Yet, I see eyes, eyes of that green where my soul often found respite. Eyes which spoke, eyes which loved. But, as I look into the deep of their green, I realize that they will not see the promises we once made. That these eyes will become opaque soon, will become just eyes upon a face where the battle with lungs, filled in blood was lost.

And I feel like throwing up. Instead, I kiss her weary face, hands, and feet promising that things will be ok. I think that she never believed a word I said, but said nothing so I do not throw up.

July 30th, 2005