My sister Peggy is hooked up to an IV
when I get to the hospital, tubes snaking out of her
arm as if she were plugged into a modem. I settle a
bundle of books and magazines onto her bedside tray
and prop up a picture of her 21-month-old son, Charlie.
"Hey, Peg, what's going on?" I ask trying
not to sound worried. I am terrified, of course. Peggy
looks pale
and flat, her face melding into the hospital pillow
like an ornate peice of embroidery...
Health magazine
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Originally published in Health magazine,
May 2004.
© Copyright 2004, Health Publishing, All Rights Reserved. Used by permission.
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