Not ready yet to say goodbye

Cancer sucks.

I don’t know a single person whose life hasn’t been touched by cancer.  I lost my beloved grandmother at the age of 11 to stomach cancer.   Two years ago one of my best friends was diagnosed with Breast Cancer.  Unfortunately for her (and all of us who love her) the treatments didn’t work and she’s been end stage for about a year.  It’s a long time to die.

A year ago, one of my closes “mom friends” was diagnosed with bile-duct cancer.  She’s a beautiful, brilliant, happy woman.  My age, her boys close in age to my boys.  A super nerd (just like me) and a loving wife.  We had a lot in common and I considered her among my closest friends.  When she was diagnosed I sent positive vibes out into the universe for her to kick cancers ass!  I followed her journey on a cancer website, as she updated the successes and failures of her journey. 

Then, about 2 weeks ago, her husband updates her blog that the latest treatment didn’t work and she was coming to the end of her journey.  I was stunned, saddened, horrified, angry, grief-stricken.  But she’s so young!  But how will her boys and her husband go on without that incredibly bright light in their family?  We didn’t know if she had days or weeks, but he told us it wouldn’t be long after that.  Three days after finding out, she passed away peacefully in her husband’s arms.  I could almost feel a star go out, the world just became a bit dimmer without her brilliance in it.

The village that I knew her from, was a group of working mothers from all over Canada and the USA.  It had shrunk over time, but there’s still a closeness and a bond with this group.  We looked to each other for support to get through this.  I had suggested that we do a memory book of our best memories of her and send it to her husband and children.  Let them know how much she meant to so many people, how far her reach went.  I offered to collect the information and put it all together.  It’s been amazingly bittersweet.  In the beginning, every new story, every new picture, every old video sent me into another wave of tears and grief, but as I process through it, it’s making me smile.  Reminding me of how incredibly lucky I was to know and love this woman (and by extension her family as well).  Her husband was kind enough to come to our private group and offer his FaceBook profile to friend requests so we could continue watching her boys grow.  He’s a wonderful man and I can see why she loved him so much.

Remember, life is short and precious.  Enjoy every moment because it’s later than you think.   Tell the people you love how much they mean to you.  Remember the joys, forget the insults.  It’s not a dress rehearsal, this is the big show and go knock it out of the park!

I can breathe again

The last few weeks have been weighing heavily on me.  My dear friend was diagnosed with Breast Cancer.  CANCER the word alone frightens me, and to have someone so young, so vibrant be afflicted was hard for me to wrap my head around.  Not only was she ill, but there was a chance she’d be going away, for the longest stretch yet.  Since she hasn’t live here permanently for a long period of time, she’s not covered by our provincial health care.  It’s not free (we pay for it in our taxes), but it’s there when we need it.  One of the drawbacks of it is that there tend to be some long wait times.  When you have cancer, the wait times are frightening.  Because of all of this, she was considering doing her treatment in Australia.  She has a good friend there, who’s also a cancer survivor and would be invaluable to her, through the process.   The wait times are much shorter there as well.  I knew she was leaning towards Australia and I knew it was going to be a 5 year commitment to her health, and even while she was going through the fight of her life, she’d be on the other side of the world.  I’d miss her, epically.

From the moment she told me all of this all I could respond with was “whatever you feel is best” or “wherever you’re going to get the best care is my vote”.  I had to make sure she made the best decision for herself.  Of course I wanted her here.  I want her close so I can hold her hand when her eyelashes are gone.  We can share a bottle of wine (or two) and talk about what we’re going to do when she “fights like a girl and kicks cancer’s ass”.  I wanted her to be here so I could help be strong for her; as she’s always been strong for me when I needed her.  She’s been so many things to me throughout the years, but above all, she’s been a friend and I want to be one for her too.

She’s chosen here for her treatment.  A wonderful friend in her life apparently pulled some strings and got her pushed up on the schedule.  She had a great meeting with her team at the hospital about time lines and plans and all the details and it made her feel good about choosing here.  I almost exploded with happiness.  Happy that she has finally chosen and has begun a plan.  Happy that she sounds eager to do this.  Happy that she’ll be here and not on the other side of the world for the next 5 years.   I feel so much relief, and I will do EVERYTHING in my power to help her through this.

So many conflicting emotions

It was a tough weekend, and it was because of cancer.  On Friday of last week, I took a darling 5 year old bundle of purrrr and love and had him put down because of Lymphoma.  He’d dropped a LOT of weight and was literally skin, bones and fur.  He was horribly dehydrated and it was because he likely hadn’t eaten or drank anything for a few days.  The lump was in his throat and it was obvious he was exhausted.  He’d been hiding in the lil’est gifts closet during the day and then snuggling with me when I watched tv at night.  Having had another (older) cat have cancer, I recognized the signs and new taking him in I was likely going to say goodbye to him.

Darling BBE was working evening shift and told me over and over that we had the funds to help him.  Not to worry about the money.  He’s a cat lover as well, but he was watching me agonize over the pain this poor animal was in.  I was there by myself (although I know he would have been there with me if he could have been) and I had to make the decision, either euthanize him or treat him.   When the doctor said “cancer” she asked what I wanted to do next and honestly I didn’t even think, I simply said “we should let him go”.  It was out of my mouth before I knew what I was saying.

Going home with an empty cage was very painful.  Every time I looked at it, I broke down crying again.  My instincts had told me I’d done the right thimg for Myles, but I was starting to second guess myself.  Was I selfish?  Was I being cheap?  Should I at least have TRIED some options if there were any, hell, shouldn’t I at least have asked?  Yep, the guilt was starting to get me.  Fortunately for me, BBE came home from work early.  He wouldn’t hear any of my “oh don’t worry about me, I’m fine” protest, I was a mess, and he knew that, and he wanted to be with me.

I was going about what was planned to be a fun and adventurous weekend, trying not to dwell on the guilt that was bothering me, then, out of the blue, my former sister-in-law called me.  She had a question that was work related for me, but also told me how her cat (16 years old) had been diagnosed with the same illness in early September.  When she and her daughter (my 26 year old niece) found out, they weren’t ready to say goodbye and opted for treatment.  She told me about the steroid shots and pain killers … and how it was simply heartbreaking to watch her suffer for another two weeks.  At the end of two weeks, they decided to say goodbye to their beloved cat.  She praised me for my strength in making a difficult and selfless decision.  Wow, that was EXACTLY what I needed to hear.  She not only saved my weekend, but picked me up enough that I was ready to go out and get another little bundle of purring love.  I have my beautiful little torti tabby adjusting to my house in the bathroom.

Coincidentally, it was the “Run for the Cure”, a race to raise funds for cancer research.  This same former sister-in-law ran with my other former sister-in-laws, one who is a breast cancer survivor.  I get it, we need to fight for a cure, and I’m so happy my former sister-in-law beat this horrible disease, when fighting makes sense, god dammit FIGHT!  But when it’s truly the end, why are we more “humane” to animals, allowing them to peacefully and gracefully end their suffering.  I hope (god forbid) I’m ever struck with a terminal illness, that we have the HUMANITY to end suffering.