After the Attack

Sarah's refused to get a cast on her wrist, settling for a wrap. It hurts, but she's used to pain. It's almost refreshing that this is something that will fade in time, but the attack has reminded her of her own mortality and the danger she can pose to others. Maybe, maybe it's better if she tells them about it upfront and lets them make their own choices. There's no fate but what they make, and who is she to tell them what they can and can't do.

She has to decide, as well, when the chemo should begin. It's a decision she's been putting off, but it's one that needs to be pushed forward if she wants it to have an effect. She's trying not to think about any of this as she combs through the bookshelf for something mindless to read. Maybe a mystery novel or even a smutty romance book that she can tuck under her pillow in the mornings. Anything will do until she's well enough to get back to waiting on tables.