Today is friday the thirteenth, it is one time I am hoping that the unlucky notion of that date actually works. My family has been hit by that demon cancer, again. This time it's taking a younger life, she's only 54. It is the most brutal thing to watch a younger person die. She's only four years younger but I still feel like I have some youth in me why not her? It would be humane if she passed as she slept rather than be aware of her inability to breathe. At times I think she believes it's temporary or she just doesn't want to admit to the inevitable outloud.
We all know the end is comimg she has progressed with this disease faster than I ever heard. The oncologist says its an aggressive cancer. That is true! On May 12 she called me to tell me she was brought to the hospital and diagnosed with a tumor on her brain. With no warning a month later we are back in the same hospital waiting and hating this ugly evil disease.
I haven't cried much really. Not when I first saw her and saw her thinning hair from radiation. I didn't cry when I shaved her head. Not when I cleaned up because she couldn't make the toilet. Or even when I had helped her bathe. Avoided crying when she refused to go to the Doctor and stayed in bed all day not eating or drinking. The first time tears came up and filled my eyes is when people in her complex offered help. I avoided crying as often as I could and everytime she looked at me I would smile.