For those who don't follow me on Facebook, I'll start with a little background. My aunt was diagnosed with uterine cancer about six weeks ago. It spread very rapidly until, last night, it claimed her life. I was the only family member in the room when she passed. I didn't realize what was happening when it happened, but now it's kind of haunting me.
Anyway, I'm mentally and emotionally exhausted. It's been a long week of watching her waste away very quickly. Over the course of the six weeks we went from a prognosis of a good outlook and cancer-free in five years to dead.
I've cried so hard over the last 48 hours that I don't have enough tears left to keep my eyes properly hydrated. She was fine just six weeks ago. She was in good health except for arthritis and a high blood pressure problem that she's had and successfully monitored for years.
I don't understand it. I don't think it's fair. I don't agree with the decision to let her die. I don't believe that everything that could have been done for her was done for her. But I can't say any of that to my family. No, that would be questioning "God's timing." Bullshit.
And now we're going to do the family mourning thing where we sit around for hours sharing anecdotes and hollow platitudes. I want nothing of it. I seem to be the only person approaching this kicking and screaming. Well, not really physically kicking and screaming, but you get the picture. I'll go to the funeral and the viewing and play nice and smile and nod and pretend that I still believe in their god. But after that I just want room to be angry. And to grieve.
We've already started going through her belongings in her apartment and it just feels wrong. It seems like she should come charging out of the bathroom at any moment and demand what the hell we're doing with her stuff. It's not real yet to me. I don't want it to be real. I'm not ready for it to be real.
Gods this hurts.
Anyway, I'm mentally and emotionally exhausted. It's been a long week of watching her waste away very quickly. Over the course of the six weeks we went from a prognosis of a good outlook and cancer-free in five years to dead.
I've cried so hard over the last 48 hours that I don't have enough tears left to keep my eyes properly hydrated. She was fine just six weeks ago. She was in good health except for arthritis and a high blood pressure problem that she's had and successfully monitored for years.
I don't understand it. I don't think it's fair. I don't agree with the decision to let her die. I don't believe that everything that could have been done for her was done for her. But I can't say any of that to my family. No, that would be questioning "God's timing." Bullshit.
And now we're going to do the family mourning thing where we sit around for hours sharing anecdotes and hollow platitudes. I want nothing of it. I seem to be the only person approaching this kicking and screaming. Well, not really physically kicking and screaming, but you get the picture. I'll go to the funeral and the viewing and play nice and smile and nod and pretend that I still believe in their god. But after that I just want room to be angry. And to grieve.
We've already started going through her belongings in her apartment and it just feels wrong. It seems like she should come charging out of the bathroom at any moment and demand what the hell we're doing with her stuff. It's not real yet to me. I don't want it to be real. I'm not ready for it to be real.
Gods this hurts.
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