The losses are piling up
When I was diagnosed with cancer two years ago, I can't recall ever personally knowing anyone that had it, much less anyone that died of it, except one. Since then:
- Damon, age 26, June 2007. I never met him, but I feel as though I knew him. I should have met him, but circumstances got in the way.
- Tapan, age 26, October 26, 2007. I met him once a month earlier. This was his second or third time having it. The first was when he was a kid. Then later as a teenager. When I met him, he was fine. Then he had a rapid decline, nearly dying on the operating table. After that, it was just a matter of time apparently.
- Demitri, age 30? September 2008. Colorectal, I think. He was in a lot of pain, but he tried hard to not let it show. One of the last times I saw him he had left our cancer group early to go home. He lives in the south shore, and I guess it was most convenient for him that way. We all saw him from the second floor limping in pain as he left the hospital.
- Stephen, age 50? diagnosed November 2008. It's quite bad. Lung, spread to brain and spinal cord. Ability to walk severely compromised. All of this happening within a couple of weeks pretty much. He's still around, though.
- Lilianne, early 80s, April 2009. Diagnosed last fall with lung cancer, never smoked. Body could not withstand treatment. Died peacefully last month. I didn't know her personally, but she was Julie's aunt, so I list her here.
- Georges, early 80s, May 2009. Il a juste lâché, as they say. Her husband, emotionally devastated after hearing the news and taking care of her 24-7 for nearly six months, simply let go of life two weeks after losing his wife. I attribute his death partly to cancer. Julie has also lost several other aunts and uncles to cancer over the years.
Two months ago, I met a young woman who just
turned 27 years old. Her name was Patricia Lawton. She was a warm,
happy and cute woman who had been diagnosed not more than two days
earlier with cancer. She was scared and worried, yet courageous and
full of resolve. I certainly expected to see much more of her over the
coming months, but about a month after meeting her, her conditioned
became very serious. She was confined to hospital last month, not doing
well at all. Finally, last Thursday, she left.
I know it's no use wondering why, but I just can't help but ask why these things keep happening, especially to innocent people. And to think, that could have been me, and for all I know, could still be me. I am lucky in a way. Although my cancer is one of the worst ones to have, it's so obvious when you have it that you can't help but get treatment relatively quickly. Patricia may not have been that lucky. (Well, clearly she wasn't.) Then again, some cancers really move that quickly no matter who it is.
Another thought: Cancer has almost found a way to do what we have always wanted. It has effectively learned to cheat death, except that it kills its host if left untreated. But if the host could survive, it could survive indefinitely. What a fitting metaphor for all that we consider evil. It's overused, but no less apt: as long as there are humans, there will be evil. There will be cancer, however you want to define it.
I am not angry. I am sad, but that will pass. It isn't fair, but things rarely are in life or death. If I were more cynical (which I am prone to being) I would say that pretending that there is any kind of justice in the face of this type of thing is folly. Of course, I am currently not capable of arguing that point.
I don't know. It's just terribly sad, and terribly baffling. Hopefully I can make her visitation tomorrow.
I know it's no use wondering why, but I just can't help but ask why these things keep happening, especially to innocent people. And to think, that could have been me, and for all I know, could still be me. I am lucky in a way. Although my cancer is one of the worst ones to have, it's so obvious when you have it that you can't help but get treatment relatively quickly. Patricia may not have been that lucky. (Well, clearly she wasn't.) Then again, some cancers really move that quickly no matter who it is.
Another thought: Cancer has almost found a way to do what we have always wanted. It has effectively learned to cheat death, except that it kills its host if left untreated. But if the host could survive, it could survive indefinitely. What a fitting metaphor for all that we consider evil. It's overused, but no less apt: as long as there are humans, there will be evil. There will be cancer, however you want to define it.
I am not angry. I am sad, but that will pass. It isn't fair, but things rarely are in life or death. If I were more cynical (which I am prone to being) I would say that pretending that there is any kind of justice in the face of this type of thing is folly. Of course, I am currently not capable of arguing that point.
I don't know. It's just terribly sad, and terribly baffling. Hopefully I can make her visitation tomorrow.
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