The walk from my office—down one flight ofstairs, up another four flights, along the length ofthe research building, out the door, across thestreet, then around the lot to find the car—waslooking a lot longer than usual. I usually take thestairs, on the run. It's good exercise. Today, I considerthe elevator but just momentarily, avoiding itfor the obvious reason. I climb the stairs slowly. Atthe second landing, I feel lightheaded. I laugh atmyself. I would rather die on the stairs than risk beingstuck in the elevator. It isn't the first time I'vechosen possible physical danger over possible embarrassment,and it probably won't be the last. Ipause near the last bathroom and decide it's safe tomake a run for home. We live less than 10 minutesaway, and today I get there in record time. By thenmy GI tract has stabilized, a small blessing, but theburning in my bladder is still hideous.

I swallow an antibiotic from our emergency stashbut still worry that I have more than an infection.We've had too much of that already. No more,please. I notice the time: it's almost 4:30. I'm missingmy daughter's soccer game—her first chance toplay after recovering from surgery. I consider goingto the second half of the game, then realize I'm justnot up to it. The disappointment is crushing. InAugust, the dermatologist removed a borderlinemelanoma from her scalp. We were in shock. She'sonly 16. The diagnosis was followed by more extensive surgery to removeevery last trace of evil as well as two more atypical lesions onher scalp. I became a clingy mother. She accepted my doting—somethingnew to her—with benign amusement. That was something. Butthe fear doesn't go away, and it gnaws at me now, this threat againsther life. And my own inadequacy.I don't remember much of the rest of the day. I'm as sick as a dog,feverish and depleted. It was my first flu shot and may be my last.I eat supper at some point, but not with the family. Marc deliversa bowl of chicken soup to the sofa, where I am sprawled in front of thetelevision, listlessly soaking up the latest CNN reports about thesniper. He also brings me glasses of water and cups of tea. I rememberour daughters saying good night. At some point, I fall asleep on thesofa. The last hours of the day slip away unnoticed.Celine Dion and RadiaGel


Free Download Just Walk Away Celine Dion Mp3


tag_hash_105 🔥 https://byltly.com/2yjXzM 🔥


 0852c4b9a8

r s agarwal free download pdf

free download ebook of linux operating system

typing tutor in gujarati free download