Nightingale, sing us a song
Tuesday, April 26, 2011As I slipped into my bed, surrounded by the smell of pain relief spray and placed myself on the hot water bottle, I forced myself to sleep. It'd be wrong to say I was growing fond of the sedatives prescribed to curb the allergy but tonight's the kind of night where I need to calm the fuck down in all honesty. In the middle of breathing exercises I tried, my mind wandered off elsewhere and that just fucked my mental equilibrium. I can't fucking manage backache, it drove me mad in 24 hours. She suffered for five years, Multiple Myeloma they said. Cancer of the backbone. It didn't spread but the ordeal was harsh. No one ever survives cancer, either ways man is mortal but cancer is assuring yourself, "your time has come buddy".
1 comments
I lost my grandmother to cancer when I was 12. No one knows the impact it had on me, not even my own mother.
ReplyDeleteI can imagine the sheer courage required to press 'publish' on this post. There are no words of advice, grief doesn't really go away ever. You just learn to live with the void.
Hang in there.