With October being National Breast Cancer Awareness month, I have been meaning to sit down and write out a few of my thoughts on this subject.
Now I've managed to procrastinate nearly this whole month away without saying a word
but in retrospect, I believe it has only been my own fear and denial that has kept me from commenting.
My sister has breast cancer.
And not for the first time either.
19 years ago at the tender age of 28, she went her first round, enduring a radical mastectomy followed by chemo and all the crap that goes with that.
Of course she fought hard and emerged the Victor...or did she?
The first week of October at age 47, she has undergone her 2nd mastectomy.
A new form "they" tell her this time. More aggressive and fast growing than the first.
She has mets to her liver and spine and "they" have given her a poor prognosis.
She is being brave.
I am just too angry for words.
Not at her of course, not even at the docs
Just at this damned piece of crap disease.
I am pissed that this beautiful woman has had to spend the majority of her adult life either actively battling, or else living with the grim spectre of this monster always lurking in the shadows.
I want to beat the living hell out of something.
It's not fair.
That is all.