Sunday of my Life

OK, so after 12 weeks of chemotherapy, then coming home for a day or so, then going back in for more, then staying with my aunt for a while, we’ve just finally seen the toll all of this has taken on my grandmother. I nearly didn’t recognise her. The skin is hanging off her body, paper-thin and nearly translucent. Her flesh is sallow, there are huge bag under her eyes and she trembles constantly. When I saw her, I was afraid simply to give her a hug, afraid that I’d break her. It broke my dad’s heart to see her like that; as annoying and nosey as she can be, she is still his mother for Christ’s sake. And on top of this all, my aunt (who brought her back here for the day) really gave me the urge to smack her one for her rude, tactless, complaining comments. Pauline, let me try and spell this out for you in nice big, bold, italicised capital letters for you and hope maybe you’ll get the picture:

SHE HAS JUST FINISHED A TOTAL OF 16 WEEKS OF CHEMOTHERAPY. I THINK SHE HAS THE RIGHT NOT TO FEEL WELL AND TO MAKE THAT FACT KNOWN. SHUT THE FUCK UP.

And yes, I know I can be criticised for swearing about it, but I honestly don’t give a fuck. It’s either I do it on here or I do it to her face while I’m tossing her worthless arse out of my house.

This entry was posted on Monday, November 1st, 2004 at 12:08 pm and is filed under Rant 'n' Rave. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.