The sheet is puUed tightly up under her chin. ~']:ou can't! I don't want any more needles. JJ
The sheet is yanked away by words. 16u must. You are sick. You needyour medicine. The words intimidate. She consents with silence. The steel needle painfully punctures her fragile vein. [ securely tape the new W catheter to the pale, delicate skin ofher arm. Her arm aches from insult. Her arm aches there .•• in the spot that once ached from securely cradling a sleepless child••. a child she spoke ofyesterday, when she said, "[ can't take it anymorel a child that is grown and is not here to hold her hand ... her h'and that is swollen from infiltration. JJ
•••
She struggles, with pride, to pull the pale white sheet over her arms. She struggles for privacy. She struggles for autonomy. The cold white sheet lies over her injured arms ... her injured hands ... her injured heart. [ add another successful venipuncture to my blue-colored record of statistics. [ exit the hospital room. Success disappoints us both.