by Loukia Borrell
When my brother was getting cancer treatment, he’d drive to his townhouse after the appointments, get sick and spend the rest of the night on his sofa, curled up and shivering. It was always the same. Get injected, drive home, get sick, curl up and shiver. On these nights, I would go to Andy’s place, just to be nearby and get him whatever he needed. He always asked for blankets, so I would pile several over him, but nothing was enough to stop his shaking.
Hawaii Pacific Review 