There are two years of distance from that day, yet every detail is forever carved in my memory...
The door opens and Matteo appears. I recognize his eyes, despite the fact that the rest of his face is covered by a green mask.
There is silence inside that room in the Bone Marrow Transplant Unit, and Matteo, to reduce the tension, jokes: "Hey, look what I have here for you!"
With two hands, he holds a large bag of blood, swollen and stiff.
I lift myself in the bed of the hospital then I fold the pillow after punching it: it's full of hair I've lost from the chemotherapy.
My movements are uncertain. I am very thin and weak, but I know what's about to happen and this thought gives me energy.
I already know how it feels to be a leukemia patient, but I would be curious to know the state of mind of a nurse who is about to transfuse bone marrow, with all the symbolism contained in that gesture...
Matteo comes closer to the pole for the transfusion, creating a bit of space between the hanging bags, and adding this new dark red bundle.
My brother is in that bag.
The ordinary questions follow, to be sure that this is the right blood.
A few more seconds for preparing the conduit, and the moment arrives.
"I am ready to begin the transfusion. It is 5 pm on Tuesday May 17, 2011... Good luck!"
The transfusion commences and proceeds, slowly but constantly. Through the window the orange light of the setting sun filters into the room.
The day dies, the night arrives: an inevitable passage to a new dawn.
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