This sounds like fun, doesn’t it? Standing on a golden beach, the sun beating down, crowds cheering, as you waddle your way under a flexing pole.
I bet you’re thinking that’s the celebration of finishing cancer treatment. Unfortunately, you’d be wrong.
Limbo is not so much what you do, as where you go.
For months you’ve been coddled and cooed over by doctors and nurses, attentively listening to your every ache and pain, on standby 24 hours a day in case of that dreaded 101.5-degree fever.