Monday, November 22, 2004

The Beast.

Cancer. Monster. Means the same thing to me.

Over the past year or so Cancer has stalked more than one loved one of mine. And I'm sick of it. How safe am I? How safe are any of us? It is discriminating and non-discriminating at the same time.

This time last year my family was facing the thought of a cancer scare. Would Cancer stamp it's name on my own beloved Mother? Would we lose her before her time?

She escaped, and by extension, so did we. I give thanks every day that my Mom was spared.

Then, more recently, my most favourite aunt was faced with the possibility of Cancer. Damn that disease. Again, luckily, she escaped and by extension so did we.

My Grandmother lost a breast to Cancer. My friend lost her husband to Cancer. One of the first boys I ever kissed died from Cancer. A childhood friend of mine lost her little sister to Cancer. The list goes on and on.

Now Cancer rears its ugly head again. My friend and colleage has battled Cancer twice. Her last round was 6 or 7 years ago. She won that battle but they still only give her 50% survival rate. And now? Today? Her husband was given the verdict. Cancer. Unbelieveable. How can this beast strike one small family THREE times?

Three bloody times.

My heart aches for them. They are lucky in that they've caught it early and it would seem very treatable at this point. But really, how comforting can those words be when paired with the word Cancer?

Monster. Stealer of loved ones. Hated and dreaded disease. How can any of us feel safe?

We can't. Plain and simple. All we can do is enjoy each day and live it like it's our last.

The Buzz:

At 8:06 p.m., Blogger Anvilcloud declared...

What a reminder to live and enjoy the moments because nobody knows how many they have. You, me, anyone reading this might be overtaken by The Monster "right now." So, we'd better make the best of "right now."

At 6:12 a.m., Blogger Thomas declared...

I know the horrors of cancer. My own father suffered for more than a year after his initial diagnosis. He died less than a week before I was supposed to fly down to visit him in his weakened condition. Instead of spending time with Dad, I got to witness my 73 year old mother put his ashes into the crypt she would eventual join him in.

I only wish people who smoke understood that killing themselves only spreads the pain of their death to their loved ones.

At 9:06 a.m., Blogger Zulu declared...

Cancer really doesn't leave anyone alone does it? Going through these last few months with my Mom and her breast cancer have been difficult and I wouldn't wish this on anyone.

We need a cure.

At 9:35 a.m., Blogger writersblock declared...

First of all, if you delete the horizontal line in the previous post, I'll bet your template will return to normal.

Cancer. What an ugly word. My parents had four couples that they were close to as I was growing up. Out of the eight friends, four have died of cancer.

We lose sight of it in our everyday hustle and bustle, but each day is a gift. Ha. It sure didn't seem like it last week, did it?

At 1:17 p.m., Blogger Kristin declared...

Amen to living every day as if its your last.

I have a refridgerator magnet that demands that I do "one thing every day that scares me." I need to pay more attention to it.

My thoughts are with your friend.


Post a Comment

<< Home