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In addition to tracking my difficulties in the notebook, I became temporarily obsessed with thanking the various people who had sent me flowers. All sorts of arrangements had been arriving in my room: white daffodils, yellow tulips, pink roses, orange sunflowers, and pink and white lilies (my favorite). I begged my father to help make a list of the people to send thank-you notes once I felt better. When I got too tired to continue writing, my father wrote out some of the names and short thank-you notes for me. But I never got the opportunity to send them out. Because things would get worse before they would get better. I’m in a claustrophobic one-person room. I have to pee. I have to pee. I push. My catheter comes undone and the urine sprays all over the bed. I call out. A nurse comes in.
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