The island of neutropenia


The island of neutropenia

I was confined to my room while neutropenic, waiting for infection to strike. In the door that separated me from the outside world was a window, an empty frame, that if filled could say something of me, something to me, something that would help transform my sterile and institutionalised environment. Suddenly I was struck down with overwhelming septicaemia, shocked, comatose, so close to the death I had for so long feared. My friends thought I might die. I thought I had died. I'm not ready yet. I leaned against the tall red tree, pulsating with the life force and the healing properties I seek, as optimism and growth sprouted in the shape of green leaves. I feel better, but sit and wait for the stems cells to rescue me from the island of neutropenia to which I have been banished.