The hardest thing about membership in my community of cancer bloggers and activists is that we face more than our share of sadness, fear and loss. My friend Jacqueline once remarked that we have not been brought together "by our shared interest in quilting."
Two members of my community got bad news this week and I have been thinking about them a lot. I am struck by Rebecca's humourous description of her recurrence (which involves both potato and spaceship analogies) and Andrea's strength and grace as she choses between more treatment or hospice care.
But I am sad.
And a little bit scared.
I think I am going to go sit outside in the sun with the doggies now.
5 comments:
thanks for sharing these voices. I've added them.
I remember that the "quilting" comment/thought gave me a real heavy heart during our conversation... and I wasn't able to hide that fact either.
Hey Sister,
Youa re allowed to be scared...for one fucking minute. Take that time. Be cared, be whatever. But for one minute only. That's it. Otherwise you will be crippled fear, and what does that have to do with getting dinner, making sure the kids have fresh underwear, the mortgage gets paid. Cancer does not concern itself with the shit you have to do. You have to be concerned with living. We ALL are going to die. You don't have the market on that!
I am sacred too. All the time. I am not sick. I am a felon. A scourge on society...wothless peice of shit that according to some should have done years and years in a felon prison.
Yes I am afraid of geting divorced, I am afraid of not having what it takes to survive. I am afriad of not ever having good sex again...LOL!
So be afraid, but just for one minute.
I love you! I think you are marvelous and inspiring and grand.
And know there are 4 little kids in CT who would come to pet your pets Bald!
Thanks for sharing that. Thinking of you and Jacqueline and Andrea.
Laurie--this is one of the toughest things about living with cancer, I think. This past week, one of my friends who has metastatic cancer e-mailed me that she was afraid of dying alone.
I replied immediately that she would not die alone. I would be there for her.
And another woman I know only through my blog wrote to tell me that she was stopping treatment and getting hospice care. I cried for an hour.
I think what gets us through is when one of us is scared or down, another one is strong. So it's a teetertotter. (Is that how you spell that?)
Jeanne
www.assertivepatient.com
Hey Laurie, I'm just getting caught up now. And I've read your intro post on Mothers with Cancer and now I've read this post.
I am the daughter of a mom with cancer.
And reading all of your posts I feel connected to all of you because of this disease. I too am sad for your new friends. And I too am scared.
I'm so grateful to all of you for sharing your stories and making me feel like that other do understand.
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