I must be stressed.

I’ve been having “the dreams” again.

The dreams where I’m myself again at 2-4 years old, in the hospital, at home.

Or myself as an unseen bystander to the whole spectacle: the doctor’s visits, the chemo, the pain, the tears, the vomiting, the fatigue, the anesthesia, the spinal taps, the view from the waiting room at UCSF to the street below, the bruises, the car rides to San Francisco, dad carrying me, Alicia staying with our grandparents, the stares at my bald head, the nurses asking me if I wanted jello pudding, the tv distantly playing Sesame Street.

Brief memories of the leukemia.

~ by Liz on January 30, 2006.