For the last 2 months this is the second time I have to spend jailtime in what certain people call hell and what other, healthier people, call a hospital. And why is that? Because there’s this sickness that refuses to get out of my body. It always comes back with more evil than Lucifer himself.
Whilst last time I was on the verge of a breakdown and nearly refusing to fight it, I am now willing to beat this thing till one of us dies. Whatever it takes, it will die or I will. Operations, Chemo; I am willing.
It feels shitty, it feels like the most horrible thing to do to my body, but what is neccesary must be done. I’m just not willing to have spend a life of unhappiness and then die that way. If there’s a road to happiness then it should be a healthy way. I am just not willing to give up that easily. No way, hombre.
I only wished that I had somebody by my side, fighting with me. But apparently it can’t be underestimated what cancer does to people. It does not only make the patients run for their lives but also the ones close to them. And I am not the one to blaim him. For me it’s a natural reaction that we do not want to get hurt by losing the one that means the most to us. I understand completly that running away then is then one way to deal with it. For fucksake, if there’s somebody that should be given the nobel prize for running away from shit it should be me. So, again, I completly understand.
Maybe it is also a good thing that I have to deal with this on my own. This can only be a learning experience where I should get the most out. Let’s just hope that learning experience last till I’m 60 and asking for euthansia. Otherwise I’ll have to curse the world and let Global Warming first get to the ones that left me all by myself in these difficult times.
Fucking retarded and egocentric bastard.