Medicine

This afternoon I'd visited a former colleague who'd given birth to her son a fortnight ago. Then all happened in agony as she'd lost a pool of blood at waking up and was rushed to hospital with an ambulance. Her placenta had loosened and the baby was to be saved by caesarian, 8 weeks prior to the date of expectancy. She is ok now, recuperating from the operation and looking forward to the daily visits of her baby boy in hospital. At birth he was a tiny wee boy then of 1800 grams but eversince vigorously fighting for survival. His mum told me yesterday he's doing well and may come home within a fortnight from now. That's good news and ofcourse I hope that not a single organ in his body works in less order cause of the oxygen he was given from birth onwards till recent.
And homeward bound from my visit to her I passed by from this field of chamomilo and stopped for taking pictures. A man standing a little further called at me that I had my feet in a field of medicine. Ah yes!

And I wished that this field of medicine flowers could bring the cure to my brother-in-law who's called me in the morning to inform me of the horror news he'd received about his health condition - metastasis. The news, his voice, his reflections over the past months they all cling in to me all day long now. His children, my children they all react as if attacked by danger.
The melanome cancer no longer sits on his skin, there it had been cut out by operations. The last hurrendous one of 8 and a half hours is of September's last, not even 9 months ago. And eversince he was
100 % clean, but now this mean disease cropped up inside his body, being found close to vital organs threatening his life more than ever. We all want to kick and beat this completely unwelcome disease out of his body. Where are the proteïnes that can cure cancer?! Ofcourse I wished that these chamomiloes could cure him on instant!