That's not to say KD's done. He's still tired. He still has aches and pains. He's got a weird taste in his mouth after eating. He takes fourteen pills one day a week. Yes, every Tuesday he takes fourteen little pink pills and rattles like a maraca. This is on top of the other pills he takes. He's going back to the radiology department for a check up soon.
But he is picking things up and trying to find the threads of normal life. He started school again tonight. Pre-calc class two nights a week. He took his mom and her mom out to dinner for Mother's Day. He goes grocery shopping and to the library. He's getting around. Even if he is still self-conscious about the complete lack of hair.
Now with the cancer disappearing and healthy blood ebbing into his bones and veins like waves into tidal pools, he's crossed the tragic coast towards higher ground. But now there's so much to gather up and sort through. Picking up the debris around a bomb blast. Figure out what's worth salvaging. Now the hard part starts. Another hard part that has nothing to do with pills and injections and radiation.
It's one of those stupid inspirational posters you see in dull offices around the country. Something getting climbed or rafted down, and the phrase "It's not a problem, it's an opportunity." As much as those things make the common man want to gag, the base truth can be just as obvious. Because if something like this doesn't make you pick up your life and shake the box to see what's in there, then nothing will.
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