Chapter 12Angie was waddling down the hall, talking with another nurse, as I dashed out of the stairwell and hurried to my father’s room. She got my attention by waving limply and stopping mid-stride. “He’s sleeping,” Angie said, the bags under her eyes round and puffy like a caterpillar’s chrysalis.
“What happened? You said my dad woke up shaking.”
She nodded. “He was having a nightmare. But the sweating was a result of his cancer treatment.”
“Is there anything you can do for him?” I asked, wringing my hands, breathing hard.
She had a sad look in her eyes, the way a child might when something was troubling her. Angie shook her head. “All we can do at this stage is keep your father comfortable.”
“In other words, keep him medicated?” I was starting to sound helpless and defensive, my t
