Cancer, Death, and other Thoughts

I Don't fear cancer.

Yes, I have seen what it does to people. Two dear friends have had it. One lived, one died. The one who lived "only" had skin cancer. Because of this, he fusses at me all of the time for smoking. I know he means well. I know he loves me and doesn't want me to die a painful death as did his mother. I love him for that. But...

My other friend who died from it was a strong, vibrant, bullheaded woman. She and I had both agreed that we would never, ever, take chemo for the disease, if we came down with it. We had worked on many patients who died a slow lingering death, and that was not for us. No way! We would put up with it as long as we could, and when the pain got too bad, we would put ourselves out of our own misery. No muss, no fuss, no machines and tubes, or hair loss and throwing up. We were going to live as long as we were supposed to, then die with dignity, class, and style.

But unfortunately it didn't work out that way for her. Her family didn't want to lose her. They could not be strong without her. They begged with her, pleaded with her, argued with her. And she gave in.

She went thru the chemo and all those hospital and doctor visits. She went thru the expense. Her family beggared themselves (of course they were proud to do it) but that was not what she wanted. Finally, when she died, I could not go to see her at the end. And she understood. I wasn't mad at her - that would be silly. But I didn't want to see her like she had become - the way we had both agreed that we would never want anyone to see us. Weak and helpless, defenseless and useless.

So no I don't fear cancer. I simply fear that people will try to enforce their will on me when I am at my weakest, and that I too will lose my resolve and give in. And - I never give in.

Death I do not fear so much any more, either. Death when I was a young mother, raising a family, with responsibilities and concerns, was a terrifying thought. What if? Who would? How could?

But now it is just something that will eventually happen. I don't want it to be painful, of course - I fear pain more than I fear death. I know it is a stepping stone into another universe, another path. I don't know what that path will be of course - and I am not like the proselytizing holy rollers who think that heaven is a place where we play harps and sing to God, and hell is a place of eternal fires. Personally, if God is that weak-minded and needy, or has such a desperate, punitive need to punish in such a way for infractions, then He is not my God. If he doesn't have something for me to do - even if it is just to sleep! - I will be eternally pissed. It just doesn't seem practical - and I believe in a practical God.

But I'm not too worried about the whole cancer thing. Mostly because my whole family has smoked and drank and been rowdy and slammed their way through life, fighting and struggling and kicking and screaming... and not one has ever died of cancer. One aunt (for whom I'm named! Fancy that!) died in a mental institution. Aunt Charlotte took care of Grandma til she died, then just drifted away... "pined away" they used to call it. The rest all died of... well, problems resulting from drink and their livers. So I watch what I drink - my liver has already regenerated once, and I don't want to go through THAT again! - and drive hard, push harder.

But I may quit smoking yet... not just because it is getting too expensive, but because I plan very soon on not having the stress in my life that started me, and keeps me, smoking. Life is too short to waste it wrapped around a cigarette. When I do quit, though, I'll do it like I do everything else. By myself, on my own, and without applause, attention, and hoopla.