How sad. Elizabeth Edwards died today from metastatic breast cancer. It went to her bones, to her lungs. That's where mine is, so of course I am feeling so odd. She isn't me and I am not her.
I have now lived with the recurrence for four years. We are on top of it, wary, always watching. I don't understand how Elizabeth went from stopping treatment to death in one day. I don't want to be in treatment until the day I die. Cancer may get me, but the treatment is what makes me feel the sickest, at least for now.
I applaud every researcher, every budding scientist studying in University and setting their sights on oncology research.
But really, Mae. We all will die. No one gets out of this world alive, do they? We will all go from different things; cancer is no different from the threat of stroke, heart attack, car accident. I think cancer just gives you an opportunity to consider death over time. And perhaps that is a gift, not a curse.
Sleep peacefully Elizabeth.
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