In a dexterous motion, her shaky hands pulled the yarn through the loop and gave it a tug. She didn’t look twenty seven years old these days. Her hair was gone, her body thin, and she was on an oxygen tank more often than not. She practically lived at the hospital. Most people would see her and think her hobbies were antiquated, but nothing was more eventful to her than creating a cozy scarf for her favorite doctor. She didn’t have to focus on the pain or the bad news. She didn’t have to think about how much time she had left if she could just make one more scarf.