$#%* Cancer

I hate cancer. In fact, there are coffee mugs that say $#%* cancer and I’m almost to the point I’d buy one of those. In case you don’t know in about two months my husband will be a interning for a year then officially ordained as a pastor. Society, and my mother, keep telling us that cussing and church don’t mix. Though I’d be the first to admit more than sometimes I say bad words.

A co-worker’s mother has been battling cancer. Things were not going well, but hope always seemed to be lurking in the corner. Now she is in hospice. No freaking fair! My co-worker isn’t old-she is 25.

I just heard of another co-worker who has a brother with terminal cancer. And friend of a friend–though we’ve eatten a meal together so we’re closer than that–who has a dad with stage 3 colon cancer and a mom with stage 4 breast cancer.  I’m so sad for them. I wish I could say the “right” things–at least something real and honest. Cancer sucks. We all hope for the best, sometimes it doesn’t happen. Makes me think of tentatio. A term I’ve found much comfort in. Here’s my better half-explaining the meaning.

Tonight we are eating and hanging out with a dear friend. The photos on my site are of her. She was bribed with wine and happily amused when she found out we were going to use them!

Peace,

^_^