I'm ready to talk about it...

Just to preface this note, I've been somewhat emotional the last few days. Something, I hardly admit to myself let alone my support group. But, I need to write, and I need support. More than normal lately. So, I'm reaching out, I guess. And it's always been difficult for me, to do this. So, if you are not in a good spot, emotionally to read some upsetting things. click the nice red X at the top of your screen. And, I'm guessing by the end of the week, I will have another 'peppy bekah post.'

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Last year was one of the first times, I felt, the pain of losing someone to cancer. I mean, we all feel connected in a way when someone we 'know' dies of this disease. But, Sarah was different, Sarah was close to my heart. A friend of mine who I connected to, on a Hodgkin's forum. Sarah passed away, just shy of a year ago. And, I still have yet to really grieve over her spirit, and who she was. And, I miss her, dearly. My heart, still hurts. And a part of me is never sure, if I will ever be able to heal these wounds. She was, an amazing, amazing person. And it was the first time, in a while, that it hit me.

(and here's the selfish part). It hit me that even, the really good, the really beautiful-spirited and kind hearted, the most wonderful people in the world. They die. They die, unfairly. They die, in pain. Sarah had hodgkin's, and relapsed, just as I have... she even had a bit more remission time between ABVD chemo and transplant. But this amazing, this beautiful woman, who would almost lay her life down for anyone, and support anyone, she passed away last year. And it hit me. Hard. Because, no one should die of this disease -- but above all, I believed that our spirits let us rise above. Do not get me wrong, it carried Sarah far, she was a warrior, she fell in love with an amazing partner, and made amazing connections, and I am so jealous of her travels and the life she accomplished while she was here. But a part of me, the day she passed, realized, how unfair life really was. And it still hurts. God, it hurts.

Second, this summer as most of you know was very rough for me during transplant. And I had the opportunity to connect with another transplanter, my age, around the Philly area. My friend, Scott. I can tell you right now, Scott was totally different than me, and Sarah. He felt as though he had a right to bitch and moan about the disease. And boy he did. ;) The timing worked out perfect for us. I had a transplant in May, and his was in June. Thus, when I got out, and had restrictions Scott would visit, and then once he headed in, I had recouped enough to go to his house, and be with him and his family.

Scott and I didn't really agree with a lot of things. He would make me watch the cheesiest romantic comedies, and stupid comedies. I think I even watched a movie with Jim Carey in it -- and you all know how I feel about him. But, we had a common bond. We were young. Going through transplant. While the rest of the world, was living. We were trying to survive. And it was nice, to have someone at that time, physically present in my life. We also discussed what would happen if our cancer's came back after the transplant, what our thoughts were on fighting, on life, on Greece, we even made a bet who would get married first. Put 100 dollars down on it.

A lot of people weren't surprised, that I found someone in the area to connect to-- most of you know I have dear, dear friends who are also individuals who have been through transplant around the globe. But, to spend a summer with someone, physically watching you two go through the same thing. It was a different connection. Neither is stronger than the other, it is just, different. It was nice to be able to be next to someone, not say anything, and know. Just know, what the other was going through - without any explanaition.

Scott and I had just talked about when I was coming home for Thanksgiving. Home has always been a hard place for me to be. Since all of my previous treatments were at Upenn. To say the least, Scott just made it easier to be there. Even though we didn't share all the same views on life and love and cancer. It was a relief, knowing, I could drive a half hour to his house, and see him, on the holidays. At least that is what we planned.

Just as my cancer returned in the early fall, Scott's did as well. Scott decided to do different treatment than clinical trials, right away. And after talking with him only a few days before in early November, about seeing him for most of the week for Thanksgiving. He passed away due to an infection from chemo the second week of November.

And just, as I miss Sarah. I miss Scott.
And the reality, has set in again. That no one is invincible. That people are in pain. That people die. of this. And, it is hard. It is so hard. To watch. And then, to try to keep going.

I agree, that most of the time, I try to find the silver lining. I do not believe all of illness or sickness will result in death, pain, and loss. But, another part of me is very, very tired. Someone once told me, I shouldn't get close to other cancer patients. That inevitably someone will pass away, and it will change me.

And it has. But, I would never go back and change my relationships, at all. I cared for these two individuals. I think of Sarah often, and for the life of me, I'm completely torn up that I never got to give Scott a hug goodbye. But, it has also taught me, a really difficult lesson.

Pain and death and heartache, can happen to really good, really good people.
And if it could happen to Scott, and it can happen to Sarah.
With time, it can easily happen with me.

And that's something that we all, need to start, accepting.
Today, i'm just really. really. struggling. And I just wonder, if I'm strong enough..
for all of this.

-
Bekah