it was the most frightening moment of my life. the voice on the other end of the phone was shakey and solem, and not at all a tone i recognized. "aunt cathy was taken to the emergency room last night. she fainted in the middle of the night and lost a lot of blood." tears and oxygen escaped my body before i could even the ask the question - "did she make it?" my mom's confirmation that she was stable did very little to comfort me. tests were ran, and showed a large cancerous tumor - likely in stage 3. the doctors suspected she had been living with it for about 2 years, unknowingly.
my family is small - my parents, my husband, and my aunt and uncle. we're close and rely on each other more than anyone else in the world. and when it comes to my personality, i am an image of my aunt...
easily sensitive, but slow to show it.
green eyes - the only ones in the family.
love dogs, but kids... well... that diaper doesn't sound fun.
gas? in my car? i thought i could go a few more miles.
the bed only needs made if company will be coming over... even then it's optional.
"i love you" can never be overused.
best friends are as important as family.
and compassionate to a fault...
it's been 7 months, 1 surgery, 29 external radiations, 3 internal radiations, and countless prayers since i received that phone call. another surgery and several rounds of chemotherapy are forecasted in the near future. our hopes and prayers are stronger than they could ever be as our family and close friends fight this battle together.
like every other year since i was 16, i am supporting a cancer walk, except this time there is personal meaning. i am a captain for Hitachi's team in the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure on October 2nd and i am asking for your support by making a donation to help beat this disease. it has touched us all in some way, and i pray that it will never touch your family as closely as it has touched our small family of 6.
