Ironically it’s often when you look your worst that you’re feeling your best. Jaundice, and the fever turns. A nineteen-year-old boy smiles, cracking newly formed lips, because his blood counts are rising. And there’s nothing like the hope that follows the recession of yellow, pulling and knitting of skin or bone, pathways and molecules clicking back into place. People will still love you after latex, after iodine, love your puffy cheeks or long pink gums or the way your nose crinkles up when you smile, so smile when you are ready, take deep breaths when you run.