Fighters.
Feel free to skip this. It's just me "thinking aloud", so to speak. I need to pour my heart out somewhere.
Cancer. It is constantly there, an every-day thing for everyone. Everyone knows someone who fights or has fighted against it. Maybe some day I will too. We keep on losing people to it.
Is it fair? No, it's not. Is life fair? No, it isn't. But that doesn't make the loss less real, or the disease less important.
Earlier this year (the 17th of April), we lost an amazing woman, mother of one of the best and sweetest girls I know. She was a second mother to most of the group. It was a huge loss for us. It was a huge loss for everyone. Cancer made her leave a daughter and a mom behind. Two women who needed her, too many girls who loved her.
Now, I found out a friend of mine has cancer too. She is 22 years old. She lives in Irelands, which means I have never met her. But just last night, she told us she was giving up. She is tired of fighting, and I get it. I support her decision of trying to make the last year of her life worthy, far away from the hospital. But it doesn't make it hurt any less.
I will never get to meet her. I won't be able to hug her. I won't be able to say good-bye to her face to face. And it hurts. It hurts that I'll be here until she passes away. I wish there was something I could do. But there isn't. I'll just be here and all there's left to do is wait for news.
I met Niamhi in January, through Whose Line. Her favourite is Colin. She's a magnificent person, always there when needed, always there to fight for her friends. But in a year time, she won't be here anymore.
We are told ever since we are little that we must pick our battles carefully. Those who will wound us the most are the ones we must skip. Those we think will do something good for us are those we must fight. But it is something we must choose by ourselves. This is why talking her out of dropping chimo isn't an option. She would make her life longer, but under what price? A year of constant, excruciating pain, doctors, hopes shattered and re-built only to be shattered again? I can only hope for no pain for her. And that is exactly what I will do. I will be there for her, no matter what way she chooses. I love her, and I won't try to change her mind.
All I ask for is, if you pray, please include her in your prayers. If, like me, you don't, please ask for her at least. I will ask for no pain for her. I will ask for a merciful ending.
Cancer. It is constantly there, an every-day thing for everyone. Everyone knows someone who fights or has fighted against it. Maybe some day I will too. We keep on losing people to it.
Is it fair? No, it's not. Is life fair? No, it isn't. But that doesn't make the loss less real, or the disease less important.
Earlier this year (the 17th of April), we lost an amazing woman, mother of one of the best and sweetest girls I know. She was a second mother to most of the group. It was a huge loss for us. It was a huge loss for everyone. Cancer made her leave a daughter and a mom behind. Two women who needed her, too many girls who loved her.
Now, I found out a friend of mine has cancer too. She is 22 years old. She lives in Irelands, which means I have never met her. But just last night, she told us she was giving up. She is tired of fighting, and I get it. I support her decision of trying to make the last year of her life worthy, far away from the hospital. But it doesn't make it hurt any less.
I will never get to meet her. I won't be able to hug her. I won't be able to say good-bye to her face to face. And it hurts. It hurts that I'll be here until she passes away. I wish there was something I could do. But there isn't. I'll just be here and all there's left to do is wait for news.
I met Niamhi in January, through Whose Line. Her favourite is Colin. She's a magnificent person, always there when needed, always there to fight for her friends. But in a year time, she won't be here anymore.
We are told ever since we are little that we must pick our battles carefully. Those who will wound us the most are the ones we must skip. Those we think will do something good for us are those we must fight. But it is something we must choose by ourselves. This is why talking her out of dropping chimo isn't an option. She would make her life longer, but under what price? A year of constant, excruciating pain, doctors, hopes shattered and re-built only to be shattered again? I can only hope for no pain for her. And that is exactly what I will do. I will be there for her, no matter what way she chooses. I love her, and I won't try to change her mind.
All I ask for is, if you pray, please include her in your prayers. If, like me, you don't, please ask for her at least. I will ask for no pain for her. I will ask for a merciful ending.