You have to forgive me tonight. This post will be something only for the people who stumble across it or find it after I mention I put a new one on with the next update (doctor apt is tomorrow so it will be anytime in the next 2 weeks since I am never very prompt.

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Maybe it is because we attended a funeral today. Not just any funeral, but one for Jeff's 52 year old cousin. It just doesn't seem fair. Our hearts go out to Aunt Sis, Cindy, Jonathan, Amy, and the entire Hargenrader family. I personally never had the opportunity to meet Ed, but I felt his loss just the same. Every time I looked at his children, it seemed almost more than I could bear. Again, it just isn't fair.
Cancer affects so many of us in so many ways. I took care of patients with cancer. I visited with our deacon's wife while she was in the hospital receiving her chemo (okay, so, walking into ICU and other restricted areas in my uniform and name tag as I left work got me into some places others in the church didn't always get to go, but she didn't seem to mind). But I remained blissfully untouched.
It wasn't until somewhere around 1996 that cancer personally touched my life. Living away from my side of the family saved me from some of it. That is until my grandmother lost her battle in December of 2004.
But now, 7 years later, there are SO MANY people. Prior to December of 2010 I knew of one classmate who was suffering from this horrible disease. Then of course, Jeff's diagnosis in December. Since that time, I've discovered another classmate, a classmates husband, one of the girls from a class close to ours, my brother's girlfriend (not sure how that one slipped by me!), Jeff's cousin and most recently, one of my friend's mother-in-law. I feel so....overwhelmed by the numbers. Six new people that I
personally know in 6 months. That does not count the many other patients we've met at the cancer center during chemo treatments, or the stories in the paper about the little boy diagnosed with leukemia just before Christmas, or the fundraiser dinners for the guy who is going to Texas for special treatments, or the guy Jeff told me about who is traveling from around here somewhere to Philadelphia for his special treatments, or my cousin's father-in-law or the many other stories that have been shared during these last few months.
This same disease is affecting (or is it "effecting" I never can keep those two straight) each and every one of those people and their loved ones in a different way. We are all taking a journey none of us would have ever chosen, yet no one is traveling it the same way. Each one is taking a different path and using different vehicles to get there. While we know everyone is on a difficult road because ours is similar, we still don't know exactly how their path is going. All of the curves, the hills, even the street signs are different for each journey.
Some people have very little time between diagnosis and the end of their battle. Some recover from their fight, reach a milestone and can claim they are cured. Others may fight again and again and again.
I am not happy that we are taking this trip. But, travel it we must. I am grateful that our journey will be a long one. Although, I admit, I wish we were able to reach that cure. Medicine says CLL doesn't offer that. I'd like to think all the prayers our friends and family have offered can help us reach that point. If that is not to be the case, we will fight the battle again when the time comes- (Jeff keeps telling the doctor that will be when he is 90- doc says we'll have to find a new doctor for that battle.) We also continue to pray for the rest of those who are traveling their own journey and those traveling with them along with those who have been left behind because the battle has already been lost.