So, got some difficult news a week ago or so. My cousin Dee, more like my sister, has lung cancer. Albeit she's a smoker, but she's only 49. For Pete's sake. 49. It's squamous cell carcinoma, which is most definitely casued from smoking. So part of me is of course devastated and part of me is so so angry that she never quit. And ever so thankful that I did.
Addiction is a difficult thing. It takes so much strength and determination to break the habits that bind you. When I quit I was really ready. I mean all-in. I quit cold turkey. It was May 4, 1996. At Megan's wedding. At midnight. I had my last smoke and put it down forever. I knew I wanted to have kids at some point and I didn't want to be fighting to quit when I got pregnant. It was a strong desire - so strong that it outweighed my desire to keep at it. I'm thankful.
We don't have staging, or prognosis or a plan of attack yet. I'm hoping to learn of that when I am there. It's one of the reasons I'm going. To advocate on Dee's behalf. The other reason is just to squeeze her tight. These are the times I hate living so far away. It feels like a million miles at times like this.
I'll be heading out tomorrow. Flying in to Chicago, having lunch with Tim and then traveling down to Bourbonnais (middle'ish of the state) to see everyone. I'll probably make it out to Iowa to see Rach if things go well mid-week, but we shall see. Otherwise - I'm back home next Saturday.
So, if I've been MIA lately -- that's why and what's up.