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Show 331 My nurse stops what she is doing, raises her eyebrows slightly and touches my arm with her hand in answer. I am devastated. It is as though a sister has died. I do not understand these feelings, this sudden mshing of tears to my eyes. I did not know her name. I had never even seen her face. But I somehow know her more deeply than is possible and I am mourning her. My nurse leaves me with my cooling breakfast and I am staring out at the new day, buried questions fighting their way upward to my consciousness. Did she die alone? Was there anyone at her side to sooth her anguish? Were her dying words understood by anyone at all? I am looking up at the calendar and the large red "X"s marking off the days. Another attempt at orienting me as to date. I pick a number two weeks out from the last red "X" and name it my going-home day. I will ask the nurse to write it there when she comes in next, so I will remember. I know this is probably not a realistic goal but it is a goal. I do not wish to die alone. |