Short Story: Hodgkin's Lymphoma

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Further back than two decades from the present moment, a beautiful woman blended flawlessly into the immaculate ottoman she lied upon; limp and colorless. Claiming each moment as an opportunity to retch up any remaining poisons, she also savored each minute as an opening for somber thoughts. Succeeding into only her mid-thirties, my mother was not near surrendering in her battle against Hodgkin's Lymphoma, and she was even further from anticipating any predestinations. Toxins recycling through her veins, she could barely imagine the following minute, let alone the ringing of a bell to signify the end of her treatment. And even though she was eventually able to grasp onto that bell, she still not able to grasp onto the doctor's unfortunate news

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