Mrs. Rivkin was a chatterbox. During the chemo's session she worked crocheted and spoke with other patients.
She could distract Jordi.
"For Christmas we decorate a large tree and we covered the house with colored lights. I cook a meal for a King: pasta, roast turkey , donuts and pudding…Sally and all my grandchildren love this food! Can you take the phone out of my bag, honey?"
Jordi didn't want to be rude. He leaned forward but blanched. The second cycle of chemo was worse than the first.
"Are you all right, dear?"
Mrs. Rivkin asked softly, continuing to knit.
"Yes, I'm fine. Don't worry."
He lied.
"What do you do at Christmas in Mexico?"
Jordi relaxed, leaning back.
"We begin to celebrate December 16th! At dusk, Mexican families are small processions, les Posadas.. For nine days: to remember the Jesus's pregnancy. They sing religious hymns and bring a crib to the hosts. The hosts give the guests baskets filled with sweets. Christmas Eve we bring baby Jesus in procession!"
"Sounds interesting! Are you sorry to be in US this year?"
Jordi looked at the IV in his arm and sighed.
"No, I'm not. I'm here for my own good!