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Chemotheraphy for a writer

A Single Line of Ice

I used to be afraid to needles.
Cringe.
Now I turn my face to the wall,
separating my right arm
from the rest of my body.

There is no time for fear, only
gratitude for those
who treat me kindly.

For that hour the chemo drugs
Cyclophosphamide,
Methotrexate and
S-Fluorouracil
are injected into
the vein
of that right hand
up my arm,
through my shoulder blades
to systematically flood
my bloodstream,
only my
right arm
is chilled.

A single line of ice
invades me.

Twenty five years ago
at the vet's
I held our sweet dog, Cindy
still
while her last injection
pierced
her trusting skin.

Now I hold myself.
Soundless,
I can not tell
when the i.v. is pulled
until
I am told
to rejoin
the rest of my body.