I'm not supposed to be sitting here tonight, saddened because a friend of mine passed away from breast cancer. A friend of mine who was only 2 years older than me. A friend of mine who was a mommy to two young boys, around the same ages as my two boys. A friend of mine who two young boys who are around the same ages as my two boys, have the exact same names as my two boys. A friend of mine of whom I met because we were both sick. A friend of mine who had the same exact breast cancer stage and diagnosis as me. A friend who had the same treatment course as me. A friend of mine who saw the light at the end of the tunnel and was fine, just like me. Except my friend got sick again. And 2 days ago my friend passed away.
I didn't know this friend too well.
We had breast cancer in common, we had two young boys in common, and a support group where we met in common, but other than messaging each other every so often to see how one another was doing, that was the extent of our relationship. But we were friends. We cared to know how one another was doing., We cared to check up on each other. We cared to know how our children were doing. We cared to still connect every so often. The last time I spoke with my friend was 2 weeks ago. I knew my friend was sick again... I just didn't know how bad it really was. Until it wasn't anymore.
But it's not supposed to be like this. I'm not supposed to be friends filled of an entire community of people who are fighting for their lives. I'm not supposed to know what it feels like to be surrounded by people who know what fighting for lives actually means. And I'm not supposed to, at 40 years old, know what it's like to have to fight for my own life, only just 2 short years ago and still today to make sure I do everything in my power to try and stop it from coming back, but knowing that I just have to chalk it up to whatever happens happens because there's really nothing definitively I can do to ensure that it won't happen again. I'm not supposed to know what it feels like to worry that it might happen to me again. I'm not supposed to have to worry about what if it does. What it would do to my family, my husband, my kids. My two amazing young boys. It's not supposed to be like this. But it is.
But reality is, it is like this. This is my life. This is what I am living, day in and day out. I am a 40 year old stage 3 breast cancer survivor and my friends are also breast cancer survivors. We've connected with each other because of this horrible sickness and have become a support system for one another. This is my community because we understand each other and know how to help one another. We all know what it's like to look death in the face and say no not me. We all know what chemo feels like and what losing body parts feels like and what burns from radiation feel like. We all know what it feels like to go forward with the trauma of what all of this has done to us, knowing it can absolutely happen again. And then working through our feelings and getting to a place where we might be okay, and then the unthinkable happens. This gd awful (and many other unkind words that I won't type here) disease comes back with a vengeance and takes one of us. And we are broken again. Because reality sets in that this could be any of us. And reality is that this friend of mine, her family is now broken. And this too could be any one of us, at any time.
We aren't supposed to have to deal with so much sickness and worry and death yet at our age. But reality is, we do. And we will continue to have to do so.... because we are breast cancer survivors and cancer warriors.
May my friend, a fellow breast cancer sister, rest in so much peace and may her husband, her two young children and her family and friends find the strength to pick up their pieces, knowing that their loved one isn't hurting anymore. And may myself and my other breast cancer warriors find a way to remember our friend as a source of strength for us all.
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