|Posted on December 14, 2012 at 2:05 PM|
It was June or July of this year, when my twin sister was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. We had an idea what was in store, as our Mom passed away of the same disease at 55 years of age. Not a pretty picture. After being told about surgery and chemotherapy, my sister decided to have neither one. I understand her decision thoroughly. She would go into surgery with no idea how much of her body they would remove. Ovaries, uterus, bladder, colon, etc. After trying to recover from that, chemo would introduce chemicals into her body, that would or could cause her hair to fall out, cause vomiting, neuropathy in her hands, legs, feet, that could become permanent. I use the word permanent loosely, as after all of this, she would not be cured. What she would be doing is getting a little more time to suffer all of this. Quality time is what she wants, not quantity. And so, she and her husband went to New Orleans for five days. They went to Disneyland for two days. They went to the river for three days. They have dined with friends and relatives. Visited with friends and relatives. I am sure she has enjoyed it all. I want her to have much laughter and no worries. As much as it is in my power to provide those things, I will. She is my twin sister and I would do anything for her. Anything. I wish I could take this disease from her body. Beat it up. Kick its ass. I'd do it in a heart beat. But I can't. What I can do, is clean her house, do her laundry, run errands, and cook. I know she is terrified by what she is facing. I am, too. I will talk with her, show her my empathy and sympathy, try to make her laugh and hold her and hug her and just, be, with her. I love her so, so much.