One thing I try to do here in this blog is be discrete about using names. Someone I care about a lot has become very ill and the news was sudden for me. I guess you might call her an aunt but I know her better on a first name basis. My heart also goes out to her husband, the silent gentle giant of the family. Shortly before my wedding, she had a battle with cancer that she won. Neither of us like to say a whole lot about how we feel although you wouldn't know it in my case. Without ever saying a word, she inspired me to donate platelets when I was active in the Blood Bank. I guess I need to get active again because it appears that her cancer is back. Obviously, those directly involved would know who I am writing about.
She has my full support and love. I wish I could stop right there without explaining but she was unable to quit smoking after her first bout with cancer. As I told her on the phone, it would have been better for her to quit but I've been through quitting back in 1998 or so. It was a miserable experience in some ways comparable with what I go through these days. When I was in Baltimore, I walked past a group smoking out on the street and caught a whiff. The fresh cigarette smoke smelled delicious. All things being equal, I never would have quit.
All things were not equal. I had only been a serious smoker for five years while this special person has smoked most of her life and is considerably older than I am. Melissa had just lost her father to something heart and lung related so his smoking certainly contributed to his death. In my case, I started smoking with my eyes wide open. I knew it was a deadly habit and I wanted it to kill me. By 1998, I hadn't been suicidal in quite a while so smoking no longer made sense. My fellow sickie started smoking in the days before it was known to be so dangerous when society encouraged smoking. She has been told to quit or she will die soon but it will be a struggle nonetheless.
She suffers from a chronic pain disorder and we are careful to avoid comparisons. Boredom is a terrible part of being sick and boredom is a terrible part of quitting smoking. During my brief smoking relapse after being told I needed brain surgery (2000?), I was grateful to have something to occupy my hands. I am a busy person by nature. Right now, I'm physically exhausted and want to go to sleep but I can't handle the distractions. I had to come out to the office and load two very mentally undemanding computer games. By switching back and forth between the two, I was able to stay busy enough without reaching the concentration level that would inflict agony. I had to quit playing one of the games to start writing this.
My sickie buddy is one of the rare people I can stand to be around while feeling less than at my best. My in-laws try very hard and they are also among those people in short doses while Melissa tops the list. The difference with my sickie buddy is that she keeps her voice down because that's what she prefers. I can't imagine her shining a light in my eyes. She remembers to ask before touching me which isn't something where the point is that I'll be likely to say no. It's the recognition that I require a tiny additional layer of space. She offers me a degree of respect that I don't ever expect from others but always appreciate. You either have to live with me like Melissa or live through the experience for yourself to appreciate.
Well, my buddy was admitted to the hospital with breathing problems and it was discovered that she had a mild heart attack. It just goes to show you how advanced modern medicine is that the heart attack was not the cause for immediate concern. Like me but to a more advanced stage, her overall health is more a cause for concern than anything specific. They discovered a spot on her lung where the previous cancer was while investigating the breathing.
I do not know whether the cancer's return is strongly suggested or confirmed as returned at this point. If it has returned, I do not know what stage it would be. I'm thankful that I've never had to know the intimate details of cancer in any form beyond the little I learned in a college course. All I do know is that my buddy was allowed to return home and that it's being treated as good news at this point.
I did hear talk of her running over nurses like I would although I would hope she asked them what lines she really shouldn't cross before doing so. In my hospital trips, the point when I was able to start lobbying to go home effectively was the point where I was declared "better enough." According to the nurses, this was pure coincidence. There was no way they'd send me home before they were good and ready to do so no matter how many tests I refused.
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