Untitled

by Emily Shea

Dad sits in the basement

on the phone with work

discussing how the company will survive the shut down

I sit upstairs in my room

studying vasculitis

or perhaps trying to meditate

Why am I here?

I cannot be at the hospital

Mom sits in her recliner

maybe asleep

maybe awake

but not present

ignoring messages and staring absently at the television after another day

of whole brain radiation treatment

I anxiously refresh my email waiting

Awaiting a reply

A message from her doctor

“All tumor sequencers are being used for COVID testing right now”

What is next?