Somehow, I’ve through the first half of the year fairly well. The second part of the year has been tremendously better than the first half. The end of radiation was the start of a new phase for me — being on maintenance drugs. I’ve been on them for almost a month, and so far so good. I was really scared about starting these drugs, but I’m getting into a new routine to make sure I take them each day, and watching my diet so I don’t sabotage my body any more than what it’s already been through.

As I’ve come through the tunnel from the dark side to a much lighter aide, I’ve had many family members and friends by my side. I’ve had people checking on me and praying for me regularly. I really didn’t give my survival too much thought until recently, when I learned that my friend’s mom did not survive.

One week after I had a mastectomy back in January, my mom’s friend dropped by my house. She brought me a Get-Well card with a gift card, a Saint Padre Pio prayer card, and a Saint Padre Pio coin. Just a few months earlier, she’d entered remission from colon cancer. She was a survivor. I was so happy and surprised she dropped by that day. I was so gorked out on pain meds that I lost all manners and didn’t invite her in to sit. I chatted with her for a bit and just felt tired. She must’ve sensed it because she left soon after stopping over. When I felt a little better, I revisited her card and the small gifts she’d given me. She was so sweet and thoughtful. It all came straight from her heart. I send her a text thanking her for the card and gifts.

After I healed from surgery, I went straight into chemo within a few weeks. As I rounded the end of chemo treatment in May, I learned from my friend that her mom started having pain and eventually found out she had a recurrence of cancer. It returned to her liver and spread throughout her colon. I sent her a text on July 17th telling her I was paying for her, and again on August 13th. She replied both times saying Thank You, with a heart emoji. On August 22nd, she passed away. She was 73 years old. She had been like a dear 2nd mom to me since I was 13 years old.

Yesterday I went to her funeral. It was heartbreaking and wonderful at the same time. Obviously heartbreaking because she is gone, but wonderful because she left behind nothing but good memories and touched the hearts of many people. I can’t believe she was in my living room 7 months ago hugging me because she was so worried about me, and now she’s gone.

Life is too short. This death touched me more than any other so far. This one hit home. I know I’m blessed to have the health I have right now considering the diagnosis I had at the end of last year.

Stifle Me Not