Still no words
Apr. 6th, 2010 11:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
silensyI'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.
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.
