Fucking Cancer

A friend of mine is dying.

He had his last doctor's appointments and now will be in hospice, at home, with his family.

I knew it was coming. We'd just seen him last week when we were at the Cancer Center. He was in one of the little side rooms getting a transfusion. As sick as he was, he was still charming and handsome. He told if he'd known I was coming he would have gotten an extra can of Ensure for me.

My stomach feels as though it is full of metal grinding away when I think about it.

I used to eat lunch with him and every day he'd sigh a little at his lunch and say his wife was trying to make sure he ate healthy. We'd laugh at him and then he'd cut up his apple with his pen knife. He's the only person I've ever known that cut his apple horizontally instead of vertically. Such a little thing and yet I've been thinking of it all day today. I can just picture him talking away as he peeled that apple. I find myself googling apples, searching for pictures of apples cut in half the way he did....

Fucking Cancer.