[livingwith]

My husband is asleep in a reclining chair, wrapped in a blanket. I am watching the drip, drip, drip, drip of colorless liquid from a plastic bag hanging from an IV pole into a tube attached to his arm by a needle. Every drip seems to wait an allotted amount of time to drop, like paratroopers waiting their turn to jump, into his bloodstream, where it will find its way to his bone marrow. I check the level of the bag containing the miracle medicine, trying to estimate how much longer we will have ...Read the full article