The doorbell rings at 9:30 a.m. and there stands my son. “Are you ready for this, Mom?” I reply with my voice, “I think so.” However, my heart screams, “NO.” The doctor had given me an anxiety pill that I took in the morning. Todd carries my bag to the car and we head down the highway to MSTI. We arrive and enter the building for my first treatment. I am taken for a weight check and blood work. I see Dr. Dan, go over my results from the prior week’s tests and I am cleared for the infusions. The infusion lasts approximately 5 ½ hrs. I wanted to spend this time talking to my son. We rarely have time alone, just he and I but I fade in and out of sleep from the anxiety pill. Todd sits at the foot of my bed, monitoring me and taking notes when the pharmacist and nurse talk. I try so hard to listen but the brain cannot engage. Todd senses this and records vital information for me. He has taken the place of my husband in my life. He is my number one man. I don’t see him as often as Paige and like his father; he is a man of few words. However, I am his mother and I can read the unspoken things that lie heavy on his heart, especially those concerning me. He brings me home, changes his clothes and edges the lawn. My brother, Johnny and sister in law, Leah come later to mow. Before Todd leaves Paige arrives to do the night shift with me. They talk and then he heads home to his family. She and I go over my meds. She fixes dinner for me and then we try to watch a movie together. I cannot last and fall asleep but only for a short period of time. The anti nausea pill causes insomnia so I cannot sleep longer than two hours at a time. It also causes a very bad headache that I cannot shake. Paige and I awake then eat breakfast. She looks at mountain of pills on the kitchen counter (that drives me nuts by the way) and decides I need a clear container to store them in and a larger pill box. She heads off to buy some groceries and the containers. I smile when she brings back a pill box as large a clip board. It was the same size as the one Lolly used when he had his liver transplant. She asks if I am up for a walk. I am really fatigued but Dr. Dan said I should go for a short walk when I feel tired. We walk slowly to the car show in the strip mall by my subdivision. The first car we see is a black 1970 GTO. She asked, “Was this one that Daddy had”? I answer, “No we had a 1969, 1968 and a 1965”. She wanted to know what was his favorite car was. I shared that I thought the red and white 1957 Chevy was his favorite. He raced all of the cars except the 1969 GTO. We got to the middle of the strip mall and there was a red Chevy and a live musical band beside it. We approach the band and they start to sing the song “Little GTO”. This was a song my brothers and cousin sang at the end of Lolly’s funeral as we played 8mm movies of him racing his GTO. My daughter and I wrap our arms around each other’s waists and sing the waaa-waaa chorus of the song; turning we head for home.