F@%k Cancer!

62 years.

Is this all we get?

She was supposed to grow old and gray. Maybe even die peacefully in her sleep at age 102, after reaping the rewards of the years she saved for retirement, for our colleges. Damn, she even saved for the grandkids that life never meant to deny her; the children I could still have and she’d never meet if all this goes to hell in a hand basket.

I pray that WebMD, Google and the tests are wrong. Life must be pulling a prank on us. Surely modern medicine can save her. The surgeon’s magic scalpels and drugs will restore her to all her glory. She’s too young to be trapped inside her head fighting to get the right words to come out. Too young to be denied the excitement of driving the twin turbo X1 she bought as a retirement gift. I know she smiles and laughs but there is a bit of frustration and fear in her eyes. Me being here, in this sterile hospital room with her, and with my sister, is not how our 2018 family vacation was supposed to go down. You can tell we don’t belong in this telemetry unit. We look lost, tired, out of place, like we are searching for the kinds of answers that will get us safely back home.

She keeps repeating names, sounds, and made up garbled words that make her seem playful, almost child like. At least she still knows who she is, who I am, and that we love her. We most definitely love her. I’m are scared of watching her fade away, here and there, out of reach, trapped in this weird limbo caused by the occipital lobe leisure in her beautiful brain. I’d never met such a strong, capable and independent person which makes the pain of seeing her suffer like this even greater. My cousin and aunt tried to spare me from the shock of her convulsions but the fact that she had been to the hospital three times in 4 weeks was already playing worse scenarios through my head. Is this how her story ends?

A few hours ago she was stroking my hair, asking me if I was frightened. I bravely said no because there are absolutely no regrets as it concerns our history. She taught me to solve problems, to fight for what I had earned. Her spirit and passion fuel my own ambitions. I am who I am because she refused to accept anything less than my best effort; to love unconditionally, kindly and courageously. She never feared death and prepared me for this moment throughout my entire life. I just never thought the day would come so soon. I want to flee. To get on a plane and pretend everything’s okay. To not have to worry about chemo, surgery or last wills and testaments. We should be planning my sister’s wedding not shooing away a funeral.

Why now?

Why her?

She has so much to live for!

All I feel is anger. Pure unadulterated rage. Words elude me. I’m numb, fighting today for the win tomorrow.

This nightmare has to end…

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