farewell mrs. crabtree

radiation runs like clockwork.

everything is so calibrated you can almost set your watch by the military like timing of it all.

it can feel like groundhog day.

enter hospital.

wave to receptionist.

breeze down the hallway.

wave to nurses at station.

go further back.

change into your gown.

take a seat.

wait with the others, there for the same thing as you.

fast friendships can form.

mrs. crabtree became my radiation bud straight away.

though alas, my radiation time has been changed.  we are no longer in the same queue.

darn.

i said good luck to you mrs. crabtree.

she said same to you.

i said are you going to worry about this once it's all over?

she's 75.  i'm 50.

she said no.  i don't think i will

i said ok.  then i won't either.

but i probably will a little bit.

she uses a walker, moves slowly.

but she has the spirit of a mafia don.

i knew we were friends when i asked her about that blasted metal door.

i said mrs. crabtree, do you hate that door too?

and she said oh my goodness yes!

and she slammed her arm down so fast on the chair that her gown slipped right off her 75 year old shoulders.

and she couldn't reach around to fix it.

i said i gotchu girl, and tied her gown right back up.

back to the door.

i said do you want to murder it?

and she said yes i do!

i said me too!

it shouldn't be too hard to bury a door, me and mrs. crabtree.

it's the getting it past security.

and probably dragging it too, she wouldn't be able to help but so much, considering her walker.

but the fact remains.

she wants to.

as do i.

xx katy