This post is something I don't like really doing. Baring it all. Laying out my feelings. Expressing to "strangers" how I feel, not that any of you are truly strangers, but you get my point... It makes me feel vulnerable and exposed, but I need this. I needed to write down my feelings because that is the only way I feel like I can get the weight lifted off my shoulders. And I actually do feel better since typing this out. But please be kind because I'm not a huge fan of exposing myself this way....
Reality /rēˈalətē/
Noun 1. The world or the state of things as they actually exist, as opposed to an idealistic or notional idea of them: "he refuses to face reality".
Reality, it's such a small word but it means so much. It shows you exactly the things you don't want to see and then the things you don't actually believe you are seeing or are happening to you. Good or bad. They say life is reality. I tend to agree with that on some level, however I tend to disagree. Why exactly is it when something bad occurs there is always someone there to say, "that's life, that's reality"? And when something great happens you, you never hear "that's life, that's reality". Is it because sometimes when good things happen you feel like it was a dream? But then why? Do you feel you aren't lucky enough to have good things happen to you all the time? Or are we just so used to bad things happening that we feel like good things are almost not real?
I've been thinking about death a lot lately. But I've also been thinking a lot about life too. Death, death, death.... It's so easy to say but it's so hard to accept. Life, life, life.... It too is an easy little word to say but it's colorful definition(s) are so hard to actually do. To live your life you must accept death. But why? Why must we accept that there is an ending to such a beautiful thing? Even if there is a lot of ugly mixed in it.
The reality is, my reality is, is over the past 7 almost 8 months I have experienced so much life and too much death and heartache. I have experienced happiness but so much sadness. Sometimes I wonder why we (as in people) focus on the bad, ugly, sad parts of our lives? Why does the dark seem to cloud up the light? Why does sadness or death seem to stick out in my life like a sore thumb? Is it the devil? I think it is. But I'm scared. I'm scared of what my family's future holds.
My reality is my grandpa. My grandpa was diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia a few weeks ago, I can't even remember how long its been. Acute myelogenous leukemia (AML) is a cancer of the blood and bone
marrow — the spongy tissue inside bones where blood cells are made. He started chemo last week, we were told that this was his only chance. They said without the chemo there was no chance of survival. But with the chemo there is less than 24% of a chance he'll make it through it. And not forgetting to mention there is the five years after the chemo that he has to have continuous check ups and if the chemo works there is still a high possibility that he may need a bone marrow transplant. My grandpa is 84 years old. He just started his chemo which is actually a less aggressive treatment. He only goes once a month for four days. His "last" first treatment was last Thursday. He was sick by Sunday and in the hospital on Monday. The doctor told us that he would have an even higher risk of getting infections because AML attacks your blood cells (white and red). When they got him to the hospital he looked deathly (from what my mom told me) the doctors/nurses were very concerned. They ran tests and more tests and found out that he's actually has an infection in the blood. Some sort of fungal infection. I have no idea what in the hell this means. I do know that it could be Sepsis. This is not good. This is not good in a young person but it's much worse in an elderly person.
If the cancer doesn't kill him, then the infections may take care of the job for it. That was what I read up on here. He is very sick and I can't stand the thought of him suffering like this. I just can't stand it! This is my grandpa. The one who my sister and I would spend an entire week with once a year when we were growing up. The very one who when were were kids bought us a dozen doughnuts because we begged for them and then made us eat one doughnut every hour until they were gone. That is the reason why I'm not a huge fan of doughnuts to this day. It just seems so unfair. I know that's selfish because there are tons of people out there who are suffering. But this is my grandpa. And I hate cancer. I hate the infections AML causes. I HATE ACUTE MYELOID LEUKEMIA!
Right now my grandpa is still in the hospital. I don't know when he will get to go home or if he... I don't want to say it, think it, or even type it. Right now I'm sitting here typing this and my eyes are burning with unshed tears and heart is breaking, breaking for the pain my grandpa is having to endure and for the pain that will come. My heart is breaking and I am so sad, so angry, and I guess I'm in denial. I'm not ready to let go. I'm not ready to experience the one thing I've not really thought about... Letting go. I'm not ready... I'm not ready to start letting go of anyone, much less my grandpa. I'm not ready to see my own father and uncles cry from losing their daddy. I'm not ready to see the look of heartache and loss on my dads face. I'm not ready... Yet everything inside me is screaming "You better get READY!!!". I hate this.
My other grandfather, my moms father passed away in March of this year. He found out he had lung cancer on a Wednesday or Thursday and he passed away less than 2 weeks later. He actually never suffered. He passed away peacefully. It was a quick but painless way to heaven. Very much different than my dad's father. We as kids never really spent much time with my mom's dad. They worked in a very progressive industry where they opened and business from the ground up and now that business is extremely successful. So we spent more time with my dad's parents. That's why we are so much closer with them. That's why my heart is breaking so badly.
The reality is, my reality is, is over the past 7 almost 8 months I've experienced so much life but too much death and heartache. This is just my reality. I'm not saying that what is going on in my life supersedes your problems. But right now in this very moment I feel like a piece of my heart is breaking off and it can never be mended. There will forever be a chunk missing from it. Do scars really make you tougher?
