I Fucking Hate Cancer

I FUCKING HATE CANCER.

I flip through Facebook to pass the time, and all I see over and over again are GoFundMe pages with heartbreaking stories about parents who are dying from cancer and leaving their children.  Or I see photos of happy couples smiling at each other, out celebrating birthdays and anniversaries and I am so jealous that I will never have that with my one true love.

I FUCKING HATE CANCER.

Today I took my girls out for mani / pedis courtesy of sweet Julie.  I was really looking forward to it.  But as I sat in the chair in between the girls I was suddenly struck by a memory of Ben sitting in the recliner with his horribly swollen feet.  He never complained.

I FUCKING HATE CANCER.

My strong, brave man had swollen feet and could barely walk.  He was 46 years old, he had fought bad guys and saved lives, worked for hours and hours straight and then came home and taught his son how to throw a football, and he had to use a walker?  A FUCKING WALKER.  Like a 90 year old.  He crawled up the stairs.  He closed the bedroom door and sobbed in pain when he couldn’t tolerate it anymore.  He went from appointment to appointment, day after day for nine months but he never complained.  

I FUCKING HATE CANCER.

I am haunted every day by the memory of him trying to walk and seeing him fall down and hit his head hard on the tile floor.  I’m haunted by the memory of him calling my name as he lay there, unable to get up.  I’m haunted by the fact that he lost all control of his bodily functions.  I’m haunted by the fact that his children cleaned up after him.  I’m haunted by the memory that he died with a swollen, black eye.  I’m haunted by the desperation in his voice as he asked Dr. B if he was going to die. By the look of horror on his face as Dr. B said, “Yes, Ben.”  By the tone of his voice as he told me he didn’t want to die.  By the memory of him looking at Dr B and saying “I waited 15 years for a truck and now I can’t drive it.”  By the tears he shed and the sense of abandonment he felt in his final days from those who were not here for him emotionally for so many years.  Not even in the end.  For the fact that they didn’t even pay attention to the fact that he was dying.  Ignored the fact that he was dying.  I’m angry at the pain they caused him.

I FUCKING HATE CANCER.

I’m anguished.

I FUCKING HATE CANCER AND ALL THE SHIT THAT GOES WITH IT.

I wonder if the horror of those memories will ever fade.

I just want to see him dance again.

 

2 thoughts on “I Fucking Hate Cancer

  1. Cancer is evil and so unbelievably cruel. Your family experienced the worst of it and were robbed of someone special who was supposed to be a part of your lives for years to come. Nothing about that is okay. Every cell in my body would be screaming in anger as well.
    I don’t know much about PTSD, but what you endured for 10 months seems like it could lead to something along those lines.
    I can only offer tears and sympathy and wishes that this week is a little easier. One day at a time. Xoxo

    Liked by 1 person

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