Still no words

[silensy]

I've been trying to stay busy and not think. But I need to black and white this someplace for myself and Facebook doesn't count.

On March 28, my very dear friend lost her battle with breast cancer. It's the end of three very long years and far far too much pain. We're planning a party for Friday night, the funeral for Saturday morning at 9am. If you'd like to come, you're welcome, though most of you aren't close enough to make it.

I keep trying to make sense of it. None of the things people say, that I say, help at all. Yes, she's not in pain anymore. Yes, I got to say goodbye, tell her I loved her and that it was okay. But the only thing that's keeping me from giving in to the need to scream and scream and scream is sticking close to the sense that this is all not real. Just a bad dream from an overactive imagination. Like Russians.

I don't want it to be real.

I'm leaving the comments open but I don't really want any more sympathy or offers to help. If you want to help, make sure that you let all the women in your life know that their health is in their hands. If you think there's something wrong, demand tests. Push for the ultrasound, the biopsy. Don't assume that youth is a safety net. Victoria was 25 years old when she found the lump.

The doctors told her she was too young. That she couldn't have cancer because cancer didn't hurt. That she wasn't an urgent case. They were wrong every single time.

Comments

[seraangel.livejournal.com]

It's one of the hardest things to go through, both for the sufferer and for the people that loved them. I know you don't need anymore sympathy or help, but I figured I'd give you a hug anyhow.

[ashkitty.livejournal.com]

I think screaming might not be a bad thing to do, really.

[(Anonymous)]

Well, I haven't had the will to write about this yet but I thought maybe here would be okay.

I think I cried more in these last few weeks than I have in five years. It's still not better. The usual things I've done to forget aren't helping me here. All I keep thinking about are snatches of conversation and I keep relieving them over and over again. My mind tells me :: I should've made more time, I should've pushed harder to see her, I wasn't a good enough friend and I keep staring at old text messages like they can make some sense to everything that's happen. They don't. Nothing makes sense here.

I tried to make it up to her by staying with her in that room for as long as I could. Even though, I thought we lost her within those first few days. And if I hadn't gotten sick this past winter and saw what that did to her, I wouldn't have made the effort to actually eat and take care of myself during those days. It was so hard to actually make the effort. And I think what hurts most is leaving for lunch because she would nag me -- only to be gone from that place, the only time it mattered. It all just sort of eats me up inside......

Anyway, this is definitely a sort of everywhere response but definitely not a sympathy ping. V was an amazing person in our lives and I wish to God, she wasn't gone. I keep thinking if only we could text eachother spoilers during an episode of SPN and cackle at the death glares you gave us, it'd be a damn good day.