She died too young

hello all you awesome Semi-colons!

Whoa Nellie! Thank you to those who ventured out in support of my undying hope and encouragement to my compatriots in cancer no matter how one chooses to heal.

I look at this whole gig with a totally different paradigm. I don't know if you ever notice that I never refer to cancer as a beast to slay. I never look at it that way because it has brought me to such a wonderful place in my life. I stopped thinking my position was odd when I read Dr. Andrew Weil's book, Spontaneous Healing. He framed my position so well. I do not think of my body as a battlefield and when I saw The Secret on Oprah I was again affirmed that my attitude about cancer had a different spin. People who come out with different ideas often get ridiculed or negated or dismissed. That's fine. I am not doing this to win friends. I am doing this because I know too well the devastation that cancer can bring from watching my sister die waaaay too young.

But you see, it took a very painful journey to get there.

I have been on the other side so to speak. My sister died at 33 of intestinal cancer. I was 30 years old when she died leaving her 5 month old baby daughter. I had a 4 month old. We had babies together. Our daughters were supposed to grow up together.

So after her baby was born, my sister was often bedridden. I would go to her house and bathe her and while brushing her hair it would come out in tufts. she would cry in the tub as her beloved curly locks let loose and fell away. After her bath I would help her out of the tub and dry her off before pulling up her Depends on her skinny 80 pound (dripping wet) body just thanking God that I was able to do this.

She would crawl into bed and we would bring her baby to her so the two could snuggle for those precious moments. If baby was fussing in her cradle at the end of the bed, just a song from my sister's lips calmed her babe.

And on the days when she could get out of bed, she wanted me to take her shopping. I witnessed the outright stares from people as she scooted around the store on the electric shopping scooter and tried to enjoy a "normal" moment. She was beyond skinny, her eyes protruded, her teeth protruded, there was nothin but skin and bones but as long as she was alive and kickin' she was gonna be a part of the living.

And when she was finally rushed to the hospital in a semi-catatonic state, she had blood coming out of all her orifices. I stood at her bedside holding her hand telling her what a wonderful sister she was and how much i loved her. She was finally moved to ICU where I slept on her floor with my 4 month old baby since I would not leave her side. She died two days later.

No, I did not do any chemo. And no I will NEVER do any chemo. Not as a last ditch effort. Not as a first line of defense.

It's no skin off my nose if anyone does the chemo. But I have SEEN first hand what chemo and cancer can do at the END of life. It can be ugly and painful and horrible. You see, every time she got worse she did some more chemo and got worse.

Am I passionate about what I do? Absolutely. Is it the ONLY way. No, absolutely not.

It pains me every time someone loses his/ her life or those of a loved one. I understand. Regardless of what anyone may think of my agenda (and yes, we all have them) or what they think of me personally, I will not cease giving the other side of the story for hope and encouragement and truth because I have been witness to the nightmarish journey that cancer can have on those who succumb. And no one will silence that. Ever.

peace, emily who lives by The Secret too!