I found out the other day that a person I have know since I was two has cancer. Now I am not great friends with this person, we don’t keep in touch—but we know each other and are friendly when we meet. I found out through her mother that she has cervical cancer, and she apparently has had it for about a year, during which time she kept it a secret and would not let the doctors treat it.
I have dealt with death before—to many times, but every time it is like the first. This is a strange case because the person involved is not someone I see on a regular basis but I know in the back of my head that it is going to happen. And it’s not going to be a painless, passing in the night kind of death, it’s going to be a long, drawn-out painful fade into non-life.
The things that scare me the most about this whole deal; 1) she is a nursing student it’s not as if she does not know what she is setting herself up for by not accepting treatment. 2) She has two children who she is very devoted to—you would think that she would do everything she could to fight for their sakes. 3) she is six months older than me.
One reply on “dealing with death… again.”
Honey, I just read this page of your journal. I am so sorry for not having done so before and for not giving you my support when you needed it. I am truly sorry for your friend. If you need to talk about it, you know I am always here for you (eventhough I’m 8000 miles away). Love you.