Cancer is a MoFo

When I was growing up you rarely heard much about cancer, you only ever thought that old people died just because they were old.  As a child you were oblivious to these kinds of things.  I seen a lot of death as a child, I remember going to a lot of funerals of friends of my parents but I never really knew them.  I got used to the whole death concept at an early age and I grew I became closer to these family friends and it began to get more difficult. 

 

My first grandparent died before I was 2, which was my mum’s dad, I wish I had of known him.  My 2^nd granddad died when I was about 10, I didn’t know him much and he was an alcoholic.  My mum’s mum died when I was a teenager, I wasn’t close to her either and to be honest she wasn’t the nicest woman on the planet.

 

My dad’s mum, what a character, a favourite among the locals.  She was one of those people that actually brightened up a dull room, mostly with her colourful language.  She was the first big loss in my life.  I seen her almost every day of my life and the smell of smoke always reminds me of her (maybe not the nicest smell to bring back memories but it works).  She died of lung cancer, it dragged out a bit but at least she died at home among her family.  She smoked until the end to; there was no taking her pride and joy off her.

 

Next to go was her son, my dad’s baby brother.  This one was worse.  They lived in the same house and 5 years apart died from the same disease.  My uncle loved a drink but he was so much fun, he always knew the right thing to say and how to cheer you up.  We would have spent a lot of time with him; he was my friend and not just my uncle.  When he was in hospital he would get bored sitting about the place so he used to get me to sneak him out so he could go to the pub round the corner to watch the football and have a pint.  He lasted 2 months after his diagnosis of lung cancer, he had just turned 60.  He always said he didn’t want to rely on morphine; he passed away the day after he started.

 

Until the day he died it had never hit me that he wouldn’t be here, that he was just sick and he was young enough to beat it.  I was wrong.  Something died in me that day and I will never get it back.

 

Since then I have known 3 people under the age of 30 that cancer has taken away from my life but since the day my uncle left me I just feel numbness towards it. 

 

My mum has very recently been diagnosed with cancer and I haven’t even reacted to it.  I haven’t felt anything apart from worry for my mum and how she is dealing with it.  People keep asking how I am but it’s not me that’s sick.  I have seen people crumble when cancer enters their family but there is nothing you can do yourself except be there to support them and give them your time.  To be fair it’s a 50/50 chance of survival.  The people I thought would beat it never did so being positive or being negative doesn’t solve anything. 

 

I think my mum could beat it because she would be too damn stubborn for something like this to win; she likes the last word with everything.