A strange disease has gripped mí.Me for treatment will be ordered, but most look at me as if I were the condenada.Es difficult to face the faces when you get sick. They unwittingly often make us lose hope and the hope of survival. Are they aware of it? No, most people see in our face their own fear. His own sense of finitude. I say, do not see those gestures, go ahead. And maybe they are right and those who come. There is no worse illness that cause shame. So patients must be strong, be patient in every sense of the word, winning the stimulus of knowing present here and now and the weapons have to be used for such valuable purpose. I'm sick, yes, but alive.
