A good friend of mine died. She died of Ovarian Cancer. I’ve added Ovarian Cancer to my “I hope you get cancer and die” list.
She was the first woman I really clicked with in cancer land. Funny how we met. We were both clients at Portland’s Immune Enhancement Project. She was tracking me. She would schedule her appointments around mine for the chance that we would connect in the waiting room. Apparently she was excited to see another “young one”. She was talking to SW when I finished up with acupuncture. While trying to drink the cold water in the miniature dixie cup she asked me what stage my lung cancer was. I barely eked out, “it’s stage 4”. Tears streaming down my cheeks; this was the first time I spoke it to someone.
The three of us left the small waiting room after being shushed several times by the practitioners. We grabbed a table and some beverages outside at a nearby pizza shop. Marcy talked and I listened in awe. Forget putting her on a pedestal, I placed her on top of Mt. Everest. She was the complete opposite of the doom and gloom depression rift I was in. She was determined to live. Thankfully her determination was contagious. She played a major part in helping me learn how to navigate cancer land.
For over 3-years, not many days went by without the two of us communicating. In her final weeks that communication became nonexistent. It was sad but I accepted it. In my head I knew that it would be fine if we did not speak or hold hands one last time. To my surprise, and nearly her entire home care team, she phoned me hours before her life ended. As directed by her, I showed up at her bedside to hold her hand. A 30-minute visit to say I love you and goodbye to her body was satisfying. An email stating that she died later that night did not surprise me.
I miss my friend.
Read more about Marcy here.