****
That first stay in the hospital lasted eight days. Every day, Gemma begged her doctor to release her. All she wanted to do was be back in her little apartment nest, left alone, so she could become grounded again in her own reality.
But, what is reality now? This feels like I'm dying.
Finally, against his better judgment, the physician set her free. They needed the bed for another patient. There never were enough beds to service the need in oncology.
The ride home in the taxi was torturous. Though they had managed to deal with her Thrush, and she could eat, somewhat, Gemma was still terribly nauseous. With the swaying of the vehicle, the way the driver speedily negotiated the treacherous turns, all occurrences appeared exaggerated to her. So ill did she feel, she was certain that at any minute, before this ride was over, she would baptize the taxi driver's inner sanctum.
At last, she stood before her home building, and had managed not to vomit all over the cab interior.
Once inside her small apartment, it seemed unfamiliar; she had been away that long. Gemma could hardly stay standing long enough to put away the coat she wore.
Through the following days, most of her time was spent lying on the couch. Each deed she did was interspersed by a periods of rest on the sofa; then up again to complete what she started. When she managed to make and eat a meal, it came up again, until at last, the anti-nausea drugs, they had sent home with her, began to kick in.
And added to all this, came a new problem. Gemma hardly had the energy to take her bath. Again she needed to lie down before she could even towel off. But the ultimate shock came while bathing; there was more hair than liquid in the tub. All her beautiful golden waves were coming out by the handful.
Now, Gemma understood why the patients around her had all been bald. Chemo made the hair fall out.
It was more a blow to her pride than anything else. A mirror, now, was her worst enemy!
I look so ugly! Who would ever look at me now? Leave alone, want to spend their life with me.
She hadn't really listened, and definitely didn't believe it now, when they had told her, it would grow back thicker, white, and curly.
The prospect of dating was a thing of the past...
Regrets were pointless; she had wasted ten years grieving, and now it was too late.
After a week at home, Gemma began to feel much better, but not strong enough for the second round of Chemo which was coming up soon.
Two weeks later, her entire mindset had reversed. She missed her bed companions, and the constant visitation in the common room. From wanting to be by herself, she now felt comforted by the thought, there would be nursing staff to wait on her.
At least, when I'm there, I won't die all alone. There is always someone, to answer the press of a button, to come to my aid.
Just when she was back on her feet...dreading the next round of poison, Gemma again reported to the oncology ward.
That beastie in my nose has got to go! There is no avoiding this!
Trouble was the toxin couldn't differentiate between the human, and wayward cells. It killed all, indiscriminately.
Chapter 4
"This one's no good for anything!" the irate supervisor declared disgustedly, pushing the worker forward ahead of him. "I've given him the moniker, 'no-name'; it certainly suits him. You can't even communicate with him; he just stands there. Dah! Stupid, or what?"
"Here, let's try him with Flaw. If anyone can do something with a moron, he can."
The first man grinned. "Figures...a deaf-mute and an idiot. They'll fit just right." With that, he grabbed the unfortunate youth by the ear, and dragged him, moaning and struggling, over to where Loni was weeding.
Loni raised his eyes; sat back on his haunches. Their victim was about five years his junior; a short fellow, not much over five foot tall, with a shock of black hair, and an infantile face. He appeared not more than a child, but when Loni searched his mind, he realized his correct age.
He also, quickly knew, the real reason the fellow couldn't communicate: the words of others were simply garbled to his ears. There was a gap between the message receptors in his brain, and he didn't get the meaning.
The Super made sure Loni was looking at him before he spoke. They assumed, he could read lips.
"Make this one work, Flaw!" he shouted, as if that would make the order more comprehensible. "Do you understand?"
Loni nodded.
The two overseers stood there for a moment to make certain the two could interact.
Loni moved the new boy to a position across from him, showed him what were weeds, and what were not. Then by exaggerated example, pulled a weed, and tossed it in the pail. it was as simple as that.
"Well, guess you were right," laughed the first man, as the two moved away. "I couldn't get him to do anything; never thought to show him."
When their guardians were out of sight, Loni probed the mind of his fellow worker, so he could understand him better. The younger man had been greatly abused from the moment he could stand. When they'd realized he was incommunicative; he was called names, pushed, kicked, dunked, all to try to get him to obey.
He had given himself the name 'Da'. He had heard it so often, regarding himself, he had taken it to mean, that was the name they called him. That made Loni sad, and he resolved to treat this new coworker with dignity.
I will protect you, Da.
He didn't realize he had projected the thought, until Da
