Over the past year and change, I’ve sought out numerous accounts of other women who are walking this cancer road. All of them have been connected to me virtually; I’ve identified with some for one reason, with others for another. I’ve cheered them on through rough spots, and in return, they’ve educated and encouraged me. Sometimes, I’ve seen myself in what they’ve written; other times, the only thing we’ve shared is a diagnosis.
One of these women was Sarah Feather, a/k/a The Carcinista. She did not live far from me, but we never met, nor spoke in person. She took her treatment at the hospital across the street from mine. But she was married and had kids, two boys the same ages as my younger kids. She, like me, had a snarky sense of humor, and loved to write. I followed her blog, The Carcinista (www.carcinista.com). There was never any self pity, no melodramatic Hallmark sentiments, only a clear-eyed account of what it’s like to go through hard-core cancer treatment and hope for the best.
Sarah died yesterday, after a long (and stylish) struggle with ovarian cancer. Just a couple weeks before, she had decided to stop treatment because she would not trade off quality time with her family for a few more days of sickly life. I listened to a podcast of her explaining her decision, and thought to myself, I hope that, when the time comes, I can handle the situation with this much grace.
I’m sorry for her husband, and for her boys, who are way too young to lose their mom. But I know that some day they’ll be strong enough to read Sarah’s blog and other articles and postings, and realize that how you face death is as important as how you face life. Maybe more important, because you have to do it by yourself.
Bye, Carcinista. Safe journey.
No comments:
Post a Comment