Nurse Patricia brought Dale’s chemo IV to him. “If you won’t come back to your room, I’ll bring treatment to you. Hospital might fire me, but you’re finishing this treatment.”
She hooked Dale back up right there in the chair. Chemo dripped into his arm while he held a sleeping toddler. The contrast was stark—poison flowing into a dying man while he gave life-saving rest to a child who desperately needed it.
“Brother, you’ve been gone two hours,” Snake said quietly. “You okay?”
“Better than okay,” Dale whispered, careful not to wake Emmett. “I’m useful.”Continue reading…
