It's night before it's afternoon.
December is here before it's June.
My goodness how the time has flewn.
How did it get so late so soon?
-Dr. Seuss
I told you friends, events are strewn.
Lest you forget the tales I've crooned.
Broken hearts leave lives in ruin.
It's impossible to make amends too soon.
A thousand breaths between each new moon.
Wait too many and you'll sing the tune
How did it get so late so soon?
-Me
My mom is dying. She wants to end her cancer treatments because they haven't worked. It's unlikely that anything (continuing or stopping) will improve her quality of life. No more biopsies, no more shots, no more chemo, no more nausea, no more trips up and down the coast to see the doctor, no more decisions. She doesn't want to deal with being sick anymore. She knows she's sick... being poked and prodded only reinforce the serious nature of her disease. Not having it thrown in her face multiple times a week is a weight lifted. It also means no more waiting, no more wondering, and no more hope. How are the people who are going to watch her waste away supposed to feel? Do we lie and nod our heads in agreement or urge her to endure more of what she despises? Not everyone has enough energy to live like they were dying. I guess it makes for a good story though.
I don't know. It's late and I'm shot. Nothing has been decided yet.
