Now the recipe cards had been shifted aside.
Beneath them lay a thick stack of papers.
“What is all this?” I asked.
“Options.”
She settled onto the couch.
“Remember my grandmother’s friend Meryl? The woman who used to volunteer with patients?”
I nodded.
“Meryl went through a serious illness years ago. Grandma helped her get to appointments. I remembered she’d worked with a patient-support group afterward.”
Skyla pulled out a handwritten list.
“I called her. She said she could help me understand what questions we needed to ask.”
“You went to see her?”
“She lives a few hours away. I had a break from classes, and my manager approved the time off.”
She rubbed her tired eyes.
“I stayed with her. She helped me speak to a patient navigator and find organizations that might know about treatment assistance. I kept my phone off because I knew if you called, I’d spend the whole time worrying instead of getting anything done.”
