In the evenings the kidneys came. The helicopter, a bright yellow, would land on the grey cement disc, its blades chopping slower, slower, slow — stop. People in blue scurried from an opening in the building and ran towards the aircraft, hauling from it boxes and bags. These containers held hearts, lungs, livers.
Clarissa Tan
I am not my cancer
Perhaps being clear-eyed about a life-threatening illness is the best way to fight it

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