Saturday, February 1, 2014

Fuck Cancer

It’s just a word. One simple word; six letters, two syllables. But an ocean of depth underneath.

Stage four.

Nononononono!!!!!! Those words don’t belong together.


Stop saying them like that.

Glioblastoma. Longer word. More depth of meaning, or at least more specific meaning.

What do you do? What do I do?

My mother, the woman who gave me life and life lessons, is now going through the toughest fight of her life. This is one lesson she forgot to teach me. Maybe it can’t be taught.  I guess we all have to learn this one on our own.

She’s not doing so well, at least not today, and the thousand miles of ground that separates me from her is almost unbearable right now. It’s not the end, though. She has fight in her. I know, because she comes from a couple of lines of stubborn, mule-headed folks. Both of her parents were stubborn, and her grandfather... well, let’s just say that the word “stubborn” is a pale word to describe that man. Yeah, Mom has some good, fighting blood in her. Still, I wish I could jump in this fight and throw some punches, too. Maybe I could hold off the enemy while she gets away safely.

I wish it were that easy. I’d take a bullet for her, but fate won’t let me take this on.

Fuck cancer.