28, 27, 25.
The first number is how many of my friends have died from a different form of young cancer in exactly that many months.
The second set of numbers are their ages.
The third number is how many days I have spent in the past months in hospital myself fighting a battle against the cancer that is trying to take over my spine.
I came to the hospital on October 8 2014 and began writing a much different blog post. Today as I find out through yet another facebook post that an aquaintance of mine was stolen far too young I sit here and write with a much different tune.
I was just awaken at 6am for one of my new meds. I awoke excited. Halloween. One of my favourite days of the year and I get to spend the weekend at home, surrounded by family, before returning back to the hospital on Sunday evening.
I awoke with a stiffness in my back. Something that annoys me as it doesn't seem to be going away. It's supposed to go away...I thought. But suddenly that stiffness in my back...and the fact that my leg is slowly beginning to weaken don't seem as life threatening in comparison to the fact that I guess I'm still here unlike these friends I am no longer able to talk to.
It's 7am. November. I'm home now. Back to reality I guess. Except what is my reality? Can I walk more than a block? Can I drive? Can I go anywhere alone? For how long? I don't know. Every day is a new learning curve. Cancer has taken so much and will continue to take more. And this is scary. But what is more scary are those numbers I mentioned earlier.
Our age group is dying. And we're not getting the treatments we need.
This post is called no words because I just can't seem to find the ones that truly magnify the seriousness and heartbreak of this all.
As you go about your days remember this. Chances are what you're facing is minor compared to the three mothers and fathers grieving the loss of their children.