This page too was hidden at first.

My sister has had the biopsy. They cannot operate.

Polly starts her chemo tomorrow.

By now I have turned myself into something of an authority on cancer and its treatments.

Chemo aims to blast the cancer cells. But it cannot target them exclusively.

We live by the death and division of cells. The dust on my desktop is the death of my body.

Chemo smashes the code that builds a new cell, turns the intertwined helix into a terrible knot, knocks out the little spindles that pull apart the tiny chromosome when it separates.

My sister will lose her hair because the cells of the hair follicles need to divide continuously.

Neutropenia is the death of the white blood cells that fight infection. She will get sick because they will be caught in the blast.

The soft tissue that lines the mouth and the stomach will deteriorate, causing ulcers and pain, diarrhoea, fevers, a burning sensation when you urinate.

Horrible.

Unbelievably crude, like bleeding, like leeches.

But that’s all we can do.

We think we’re smart.

But we can’t rebuild the internal organs of a single human being.