Cancer Sucks

I don't really like that word, but Aimee had one of these buttons, and I'm sure she would love having this on my blog. Aimee is sick, really sick. I have been avoiding this post as long as I could, partially because I couldn't admit it, and couldn't figure out what to write about it. Also I have been avoiding it because I didn't want her to have to read this. She was living in a world of denial, and seeing it written would have been really hard for her.

Aimee's cancer has metastasized. In October after spending the summer doing radiation and chemotherapy, Aimee had her post-treatment scan done. It showed growths on her lungs that weren't there before. One could assume they were tumors, but it couldn't be proven until another scan showed growth. Aimee chose the path of denial. So we went along hoping for a miracle, that these spots on the scan were just some fluky thing. Although no one really believed it except her. She just couldn't accept the thought of dying.

Aimee started planning fun things to do so she would have something to look forward to. She planned this trip to Boston with Lauren and I, and she planned a family cruise. She made it to the family cruise, but afterwards admitted that she was having a hard time breathing.

They returned from the cruise on December 1st, and 2 days later she started on oxygen. Her scan a week later showed a tumor 7 cm on her left lung (along with others) and some tumors in her hips and back.

What it didn't show was what was going on inside her head. A week ago she started skipping a few words here and there and acting a little bit confused. Some said it could be the pain meds. On Saturday I saw her and she looked a lot sicker, but spoke normally. On Sunday my family came to the conclusion that the cancer had spread into her brain. When we showed up on Monday, she was getting set up for hospice. I went in her room (Which was so recently Jessica's room), and laid down on the bed with her. I started to weep. We wept together. We spoke for a bit, some of it made sense, some didn't. This was Christmas Eve. We were supposed to go out to eat together!

I decided to give Aimee her Christmas present on Christmas Eve for fear that she wouldn't wake up in time on Christmas morning. I hand stitched a temple apron for her to be buried in just like I gave to Jessica last year for Christmas. She loved it! She loved it every time I gave it to her......

On her way from the couch to the dinner table she fell. As she did, I saw bruises on her knees. I think she has fallen a lot. She came to eat dinner, but spent more time playing with the ice in her cup. We tried talking to her about Boston, but most of what she said didn't make any sense. She did understand that she wasn't going anymore.

By Christmas morning, when she did wake up, she said very little that made sense anymore. It was just like my grandma who had dementia. She was very happy, but very confused. I asked her to try to remember what I gave her for Christmas, but she just couldn't. So I gave it to her again. It is fairly rewarding to give a person their Christmas present several times and see that reaction. But heartbreaking under the given circumstances.

We left around noon on Christmas to visit Dave's family. Aimee held my hand and I gave her all my requests for her when she gets to the other side. I told her we would miss her, and I loved her, and that I was so, so, sorry. I expected that this would be my last chance to do that and have her understand me. It seems that I may have been right. She is getting weaker, and having a hard time staying awake at all.

It is so hard for me to understand. This is my smart, older sister. She got an MBA from BYU, so scored a 32 on her ACT, how can this brilliant mind deteriorate like this? To use my father's words, she is fading. She is fading so fast! Just a week ago we were planning our trip to Boston, and she had organized a whole itinerary. Now she scarcely can remember our names, and she'll say things that don't even make sense to her. Yesterday she said a jumbled up, random grouping of words, and afterwards she said, "That didn't make sense." At least she could laugh about it.

The doctor's said she would probably have 2 or 3 months after she started having symptoms, but doctors lie! We don't even know if she has more than a week or two. I feel this icky numb feeling. I can't believe this is happening. We aren't ready! We just stood together at the cemetery not even 3 months ago! I don't want another funeral. I don't want to stand in this awful cold weather and watch my sister be buried. And most of all, I don't want to watch them take another one of my Mom's babies away! I watched her after Jessica died, and she didn't want to leave her side. How can this happen twice in one year?

I honestly don't know why this is so hard. I have a great eternal perspective, I know we'll be together again. But I think it will take some time to get used to all this. The whole dynamics of our family change now. We go from 6 to 4 kids. I become the oldest. But I do know that I have a wonderful family, and we'll make it through. Not only will we make it through, but we will have fun, laugh, smile, and all grow old together, because we are NOT losing another family member for a LONG time! And we will enjoy the wonderful memories of our two sisters who left us early. We have a lot of memories with them, and we'll need them to keep us happy.

I don't even know if this post is written for anyone else to understand. My mind is so clouded over when I think about it all. I just needed to get something written down.