Process

But I don't understand, I don't understand how this all happens, how we go through this, I mean I knew her, and now she's...there's just a body, and I don't understand how come she just can't get back in it and not be dead anymore. It's stupid! It's mortal! and it's stupid! And Xander's crying and not talking, and I was having fruit punch and I was thinking that well Joyce will never have fruit punch, ever, and she'll never have eggs, or yawn, or brush her hair, not ever, and no one will explain to me why. ~Anya, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, 5.16 - The Body

Moe was only 42. She beat breast cancer, she was a strong, amazing woman.
Wednesday she found out that she had liver cancer.
Thursday afternoon she was in the hospital, then on life support.
Early Friday morning the tumor or whatever it was crystalized and burst, essentially poisoning her. She had a heart attack. They worked on her for 26 minutes. The doctor finally told her husband that they could continue and buy her maybe another 30 minutes, maybe a couple hours.
3 days. That's it.

I've only known Moe for about a year and a half. She was a dear friend of the fiance's and I met her through him. We all work for the same place and the first time she and I actually met was over the phone soon after the fiance and I started dating. I was helping her with some computer stuff. Moe is welcoming and loving, I was instantly family. She was a great person to talk to. She'd give it to you straight, because sometimes that's just how you need it. No holds barred, no secrets, you always knew what was on her mind. Without Moe it's fair to say that the fiance and I would not be engaged right now. She steered our relationship away from the rocks several times. We both implicitly trusted her, and she never broke that trust, not once. You could count on Moe. She was just amazing like that. She is a true friend, and I am so blessed to have had her in my life.

I am absolutely reeling right now. Like Anya, I don't understand. I cannot make sense of it. Death seems to be a concept that is too great for the capacity of the human mind to understand. It is most certainly beyond mine. I've glimpsed it here and there. I was so young when my aunt and paternal grandfather passed away. Too young for it to really hit me. The fiances grandparents hit, but it was subtle. Though I loved them, I barely knew them. Moe is the first time I am really having to face this head on. We were very close, she was a mix of friend, sister and mother.

I have many happy memories with Moe. And I can't seem to wrap my mind around it that there will not be additions to those. Nothing new. Moe changed the lives of everyone she met. She will always influence mine. I can hear her voice in my head, hear her laugh. I can picture the two of us nursing spritzers in the desert, spending most of the day pleasantly fuzzy and enjoying great conversation while the rest of camp was out riding the dunes. Moe is the reason I got back on my quad and still ride today. She was my teacher and my friend. She lived life without regrets. I know I will miss her. I'm not there yet, because I still don't accept that she's gone. It just seems like she's gone on a trip or something. Just out of sight around the next corner, just over the next dune.

I feel split. Compartmentalization to the extreme. A part of me is standing rationally (or irrationally, I'm not truly sure which) to the side, watching the other part of me curl into the fetal position, trying desperately not to face this. This horrific monster called death that stole Moe from me, from Bells, from the fiance, from all of us who knew and loved her. That rational part of me knows that everything happens for a reason and that she is safe and out of pain. The curled up one doesn't care because it hurts so much. In all my actions I can hear her voice, her comments and what she would say. I know we have a new guardian angel watching over us and the idea comforts me.

Tears

I think I might be falling apart. But I'm consciously aware of what I am doing. I compartmentalize pretty well...comes from having to deal with lots of drama over the years. I compartmentalize to function. Distractions help too. My mom's visit couldn't have been more perfectly timed this weekend. I had a wonderful time hanging out with her, watching movies and going to the bridal show. More on the happy stuff later. I'm not in a happy mood.

If I don't cry it's not real. I can't help the tears that spilled over a little bit...they were excess, and I'm exhausted, my eyes are tired. I know that it's not true, but there is some part of myself that is clinging to the idea that if I don't cry, then it's not real, though consciously I'm almost laughing at myself for such foolishness. It's not happening. It's just a bad dream, some awful, ill-conceived and incredibly early April Fools prank. I consciously know that this is not really the case. I know that the longer I ignore it while looking it in the face, the harder this is going to hit. But I don't care. It's unbelievable, therefore it can't be true. Tears are wet, tangible. They represent a detached reality that I don't want to face. Thus, if I don't cry, it's not real. I think it might be what they call denial. I'm not sure, I don't think I've ever been there. It's easier for my mind to detach. I don't like to think much. Thinking hurts when the thoughts are nonsensical and have no conceivable rational explanation. Compartmentalization to function. No tears.

Moe died this morning.

Cancer is a Bitch

You might remember stories about my friend Renee. Her real name is Moe. She's my riding coach, but so much more. She's a wonderful friend. Her daughter, Bells, is like a little sister to both me and the fiance. We consider them family. Moe is one of the most amazing people I know. She is always there when you need her, always has words of wisdom to share, and you know she'll tell it to you straight. She is really, truly a gift.

Moe successfully fought breast cancer a number of years back. The fiance and I found out this afternoon that she has cancer again and is currently in the hospital. It's liver cancer, and it is aggressive, they have her on morphine right now. They are going to do an oral chemo treatment, I believe for about 2 weeks, which has about a 50% chance of having any effect on the cancer.

She is a fighter, I know that much without a doubt. But right now she needs all the help she can get. Please keep Moe, her daughter, her husband, and all of their family in your prayers. Prayer is an incredibly powerful blessing. Please pray for Moe. Pray very, very hard.

Cancer Sucks

I've been trying so hard to hold it together all day. I can barely see straight. My words are merely syllables of frustration.

My mom imed me this morning to let me know that they are contemplating going back East before, during and/or after Christmas and to ask if I would be interesting in joining them.

I found out a few weeks ago that there are two new spots in my uncle's brain, from what my mom said today they are small tumors, between 1 and 5mm from what my mom said today. I don't know all the details, but they're planning to do some kind of localized radiation or something...I'm not sure. But I guess after that he found out that it looks like there are more coming back in his lungs and now a rib. I don't know more than the very basic details about this. And this follows on the heels of the news that a friend of my mom's, a mother of 7, has breast cancer that is much more widespread than initial imagined.

So we are looking at going back to the East coast for Christmas. This could be all just too much worry, but the fact that my mom decided to look at doing this makes me worry even more. My uncle is a man of great faith and has spoken so many times of truly feeling the effects of prayers. My mom said that he is fine with all of this, his faith is keeping him strong. Now if only I could share that. All I can do is pray. And in the meantime figure out vacation days and astronomical flight prices.

Links to a few previous posts about my uncle.

Prayers for Andrew

A while back I posted several prayer requests, one of which was for a little boy named Andrew. Preston over at Me and the Blue Skies has posted a heart wrenching update. Andrew is 8 years old and has a tumor in his cheek that is crushing his sinus cavity and wrecking havoc with his teeth. His father just found out that he is going to be losing his job because the company he works for is going out of business. Because of this, he cannot qualify for COBRA in the midst of Andrew's medical treatments.

Andrew and his family need a lot of prayers. Please add them to any prayer chains you know of or are a part of. Preston is looking into setting up some kind of donation fund for Andrew. As soon as I have more information about that, I will be sure to post that up here.