Too fucking much. I can–‘ My words and my breath heaved in my chest, everything was made thick with sobs. ‘We’ll get through this. All right? ...e’ll get through this together.’ But would we? Would I? I wanted to say I had no doubt, but I didn’t feel that. A nurse came in and gave me a shot of something or other for the pain but the pain did not go away. It was in my head, tearing at me. I was dying. That’s what cancer is: death. In my back and in my liver I was rotting with death. Whatever. ” She repeated the process on my back listening to my breathing.“There was a bit of wheezing in the breaths there, have you ever been formally diagnosed with asthma?” she asked me.“Yes, when I was 14 they said it was under control on its own and there was no need for inhalers,” I replied.“It sounded a little out of control there, I think I’m going to write you a note for some inhalers in case you have a sudden asthma attack or have a hard time catching your breath, I know your mistress may have. More

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