Had another test today. At first, I thought I did alright, then I began to feel a crushing sense of impending doom. So who knows how it went? I get to stress over it until Monday or try to move ahead somehow, knowing it's hanging over me.
But my own struggles pale in comparison what one of my best friends is going through right now. His girlfriend went back home to Japan last month. She's a great gal, and he's really fallen hard for her, so he's been keeping contact with her via text messages, e-mails, and the like. No big deal, he was going to go see her in August, and then they were to return together in September. Last night, he stopped by and told me she had cancer. I didn't know what to say. Dismay is such a petty expression of sympathy.
I suppose my friend was right in saying, "I know you don't believe in God, but I need you to just hope she's going to be okay, cuz that's all we can do." So I offered my support, and told him everything would work out.
This morning, he called me and said she'd just been told she's got a 50% percent chance of survival. So he's on his way to her side as I type this. Heavy. Hard to take in, sure. I'm not the one dealing with it though.
Cancer's a bitch.
But my own struggles pale in comparison what one of my best friends is going through right now. His girlfriend went back home to Japan last month. She's a great gal, and he's really fallen hard for her, so he's been keeping contact with her via text messages, e-mails, and the like. No big deal, he was going to go see her in August, and then they were to return together in September. Last night, he stopped by and told me she had cancer. I didn't know what to say. Dismay is such a petty expression of sympathy.
I suppose my friend was right in saying, "I know you don't believe in God, but I need you to just hope she's going to be okay, cuz that's all we can do." So I offered my support, and told him everything would work out.
This morning, he called me and said she'd just been told she's got a 50% percent chance of survival. So he's on his way to her side as I type this. Heavy. Hard to take in, sure. I'm not the one dealing with it though.
Cancer's a bitch.
Yeah, well - I just got back from my mothers house. She sits in this reclining chair that her late husband sat in. There, she suffers, hurts, cries and waits - alone. It's sick to watch, it's a disgrace to face; not her - the cancer. It is trying to eat her alive but I come against it every time I see it! I look right at it and tell it to go back to hell where it belongs.
ReplyDeleteDaily I walk and out load I tell it to go back to hell where it belongs. I confess out load for her body to be healed but then sometimes I scream and yell when I am alone and nobody can hear me. I yell:
"FUCK YOU CANCER -GO TO HELL - FUCK YOU MOM FOR GETTING SICK - FUCK!!!!" ... and then I cry. I cry so hard because it hurts me and I feel weak from the daily witnessing of it all.
God is healer. I know He is. But I am human and feel so frail at times. He is healer. He heals. She, she has got to want it and run towards it! I can not do it for her.
I am so tired.... after my long day with the kiddos and from work, we pack up and head to moms to stay the nights. She can barely walk now. I am trying to adjust getting up again in the middle of the night for her .... it's like having a new born all over again. She has to go to the bathroom at night, and she tries to do it on her own without letting me know so she does not wake me. But, that never works, - I hear wimpering and small crying as she slowly drags herself down the hallway passed the room I stay in. It startles me to hear her pain.....I jump out of bed and grab her arm to help her the rest of the way; a little sad that she did not call my name to get to her sooner. This thing - this sick growing cancer is crippling her. She can not bend down without groaning out loud - she is in so much pain. Her face looks more sunken in.....her eyes, bigger - she looks so tired and distressed. She calls out to God in the middle of the night to heal her and take this pain away.... she says "Bury it somewhere, Lord - keep it far away from me " ..... I sit with her and listen as she barely finds the strength to speak. What is happening? I hate this - it is so scary! My mother, - a woman who once ran after me just to tickle or hug, a woman who cooked for me, took care of me when I was sick - someone who laughed! I have not seen her laugh in so many years...........The pain she is feeling is hurting me inside....it scares me and at times I feel anxious. I want to do something, but I can't. Walking her to and from the bathroom is not enough. I am so tired......I am so tired....My neck hurts, I am tense. I cry so much.....I don't even know when it is going to happen, it just starts- like now. Will I ever feel happy and at peace? Will my mom? Will this end or does this go on forever? Will I ever feel whole again? What is happeneing? Where is my God? Where is my God? I do not want to lose faith. I need to see a miracle - I need to see something. Something good!
ReplyDeleteMy maternal grandfather died of lung cancer. In the end, it reached his brain, and things quickly spiraled down from there. Depending on how one looks at it, I was spared the pain, the emotional cost, of seeing a man I had known as vital and strong quickly reduced to an invalid and rapidly getting worse. It took my mother quite a while to recover from the affair, but she was lucky enough to have a lot of brothers, sisters, her husband, and her mother on hand to aid in the process. When she returned home, of course, my brother and I did our best to play our part as well.
ReplyDeleteAnyway, here's the thing. If you see this, you should know that it's been years since then, and my mom can still smile, still enjoys living, and still misses her dad.
On a less bittersweet note, my friend has since returned from Japan with news that his gal's cancer has been excised, but they're still worried and so have her on chemo. A bit after that, her family prevailed upon him to go back to Japan, and he is now studying there. It was a difficult decision to make, but his going meant he could be with her and, more, be there for her--which means something to them both. I am happy for them, and feel quite optimistic about the whole matter--something quite rare for me.
What you're doing for your mother is important. It is great, and afterwards, you will be glad you went through the ordeal with her as best and as much as you could, no matter how bad things get. I wish you and her the best, and hope you may at least experience some small moments of joy with her amongst the pain.
Keep your chin up.