Fuck Cancer...

I have been reeling from the news that a childhood friend of mine, Little John, just died from cancer.  He went into the hospital in early August complaining of stomach pains and was diagnosed with Stage 4 Liver Cancer.  He died yesterday.

Seriously.  WHAT THE FUCK!?

We weren’t super close, but I am close to his family and we have a few connections.  His sister is Monica is Susan’s best friend.  Susan is one of my very close friends from childhood.  John is best friends with our friend who passed, whom we always called Little John (We had a lot of “Johns in our circle).  John is the brother of my very best friend Libby.  So basically all of our families have grown up/played together.  Little John’s parents are always at gatherings that Susan and her family have.  I adore Monica and consider her a very good friend.  There is another brother Matt who I’m also not super close with but we are acquainted.

My mom is actually currently fostering “Willow” the family dog since they have been at the hospital and then with Little John in hospice at his brothers all of this time.

Little John was in a very serious car accident about 16 years or so ago that left him paralyzed to a wheelchair and severe brain damage.  He had come such a long way.  Hell, the guy got his Masters not too long ago.  He has a teenager daughter and was married to a gal he had met in re-hab. 

We saw each other at gatherings, usually at Susan’s and were friendly with each other.  When we were kids there was a big group of us that was always getting into trouble and causing mischief.  We drifted apart as we got older as a lot of childhood pals do but as I said, still saw each other now and again.

I’m having an extremely hard time dealing with this and felt my best weapon against whirling minds is to write about it. 

It doesn’t seem fair.  He was my age.  He already had his share of tragedy with the accident and how hard he has worked to come back from that.  Stomach pains turning into cancer that killed him in a little over the month!?  What the hell!?  Susan of course is having a hard time as well and said to me through our tears last night:

“This isn’t supposed to happen, Jami.   Our friend who is our age is not supposed to go to the hospital with stomach pains and die.  Your head was not supposed to explode last year and scare the shit out of everyone.  This is not supposed to happen!”

I sobbed in agreement. 

My heart is breaking for the family.  I can’t imagine what they are all going through.  I said this to my mom and she said “How do you think we felt last year honey?”

I know she didn’t mean it but it sent me into hysterical sobs again.  I’m not going to lie – I am not completely recovered emotionally from that yet and may never be.

I don’t know if it’s just the fact that I’m getting older, or the fact that I did come close to death myself last year, or the fact that I am just a huge sap and am finally admitting it but I’m having a harder and harder time dealing with things like this.

I am terrified that I could have cancer.  That my mom or my dad or my brother could have cancer.  That another friend of mine will have cancer.  Hell, my dad’s best friend is fighting male breast cancer!  His ex-wife passed from it last year!!  In fact, they had a news clip they shared with all of us that you can see here. That would be my dad's best friend right there.  The timing couldn’t have been more emotional right now:

ABCNews

WHY THE HELL CAN THEY NOT FIND A CURE FOR THIS!

I know.

We all can’t live our lives in fear of things like this.  We can do everything we possibly can to prevent such things from happening, but you never know.   Look at my grandfather.  He is 98 years old and yes fighting dementia but his body is healthy and won’t quit.  He is working on hitting a Hospice record one of our caregivers jokes.  Then there’s me – I changed my lifestyle to the healthy one, no smoking, drinking cut down to almost none, more active than most of my friends, eating as healthy as I can and wham – ICU.  I had another friend of mine awhile back who had did have a history of high blood pressure survive a very severe stroke. You never fucking know. 

But still, it’s there.  That fear.  That shock when someone is just taken from you so quickly.  All that keeps running through my head is: Was he in pain?  Was he scared?  Did he know he was going to die?  Was he mad?

It’s awful.

I was in denial during most of my stint in ICU.  I didn’t realize the severity of what happened to me until later.  I burst into tears when I think:  How would I react if I knew I only had a few days?  I know I would be scared.  What would I do?

I just can’t stop myself from over thinking everything right now.  I know it will quiet down with time but I’m just so sad.  I’m so sad for the family.  I’m so sad that Little John won’t be able to listen to music anymore.  Or feel the sunshine on his face.  Or pet a soft kitten.  Or hug a loved one. 

As always the question of faith gets brought up in situations like this.  I feel the need to tackle this subject in a different blog.  I do think I’ve gotten somewhere on what I believe.  I was told he had “Found God” not long ago and many were comforted by that.  I’m glad for that.  I hope the family and loved ones can find comfort in something.  Right now I cannot be comforted.  I’m sad and upset and a bit angry.  

My heart is so heavy, Little John!  Your life on this earth was much much too short.  May you rest in peace wherever you are.  I will hold onto the memories I have of us goofing off as children and the lovely conversations we shared at gatherings.  You are so very loved by so many.