Cancer. The Great Snatch and Grab.

I didn't pick my words for the year lightly. The Art of Allowing. Grace. I kinda sorta knew I was going to need them.

So many people were so happy to kick 2011 to the curb and I was one of them. I barely got in to 2011 and my father was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer and it just derailed my life. One of the biggest things that I struggled to come to terms with last year was that I was losing one of two people who loved me unconditionally. Other people might say they do or want to, but your parents do. And they are really the only ones. So, when his six months turned into three and he died in May, well my motivation to do much of anything kinda sorta died with him. My migraines notched up, my chronic fatigue kicked in, my fibro went a little crazy, and I think that maybe I lost my mind a little. I didn't want to blog. I really didn't want to get out of bed. I spent more days than not in my pajamas. My mom was lucky to get me on facebook and play games. I found some games that would help with my memory and I decided that was good for me and fun. Mostly I didn't have to think about anything and that was what I wanted most. As luck would have it, I think it did help improve my memory to a point. I still get stuck sometimes, but it is better.

Then I started having balance issues. Then the inner ear diagnosis. And life just felt really hard again. I really should have seen that as the big build up.

Then my aunt and uncle come over for Christmas and she is not doing well. She is in a wheel chair because she is having trouble with her legs. She whispers to me on the side, "Oh Robin, Don't tell anyone because I don't want to ruin the holiday, but I think the cancer really got me this time." I find out she is going in for a PET scan that week. (And when I say "this time" it is only because this extremely tough woman has beaten cancer over and over again.") Well, she was admitted to the hospital before the results of her scan came in. And various teams kept coming in with conflicting news about what they were going to do.

In the end, there wasn't much to do. Once the PET scan results came in the decision was made. I happened to be there when this news was delivered because I was on my way to my therapy appt downtown. There was cancer in her lungs. Fluid in her lungs. The doctor didn't want to say it. Stage 4. It was like all of the oxygen left the room. It had also traveled to her lymph nodes. And all of the pain she was feeling was because it was in her bones. Pretty much all of her bones. She has holes in her bones.

There is something about hearing Stage 4. For me, that day, I was right back in 2011. It was my dad all over again. And I was drowning in it. I suppose it was a good thing that I couldn't stay due to my therapy appt. It game me the opportunity to go and cry through that appt. And then all evening at home.

By the next day, I had some perspective. As terrible as this is for me, and it is bad. I love my aunt. We moved here in 1997 to be closer to her. So, this is a loss for me. However, this is not the loss of a parent. My mom is experiencing the loss of a sister. My uncle is experiencing the loss of a wife. My cousins are losing their mother. While this reminds me of my dad... this is not my dad. Unfortunately, my aunt doesn't have even close to the amount of time my dad had. Yesterday, the doctors are saying ONE WEEK. All of these people are having to mentally adjust to this loss in less than a week. I wasn't ready in three months.

The truth is that I am still not ready. But cancer doesn't wait until you are ready. It just snatches and grabs and all you are left with is a hole in your heart. Last time I drowned in it. This time I really want to find some Grace.