Metastatic Cancer And The Matching Walkers
They made a regal couple, the elderly man and woman sitting in Room 19. She was the patient, he the supportive husband. She sat in the treatment cot while he sat in a chair pulled near her bedside. Together, they greeted me with their warm smiles as I walked into their room.
They both had full heads of healthy, silvery hair that shimmered from the overhead fluorescent bulbs. Their eyes were intense and watchful, and their crescent lips, framing big, teethy welcoming smiles, stretched like thick, pink rubberbands across their lower faces. He was impeccably dressed in conservative, mid-season wear, including a green layering-sweater. She was in a threadbare hospital gown, clearly confident and stylish despite her outfit.