Diagnosis

We got a diagnosis today. "We need to do a stain so we can determine the stage." I literally screamed NOOOOOOOOO and hit the floor. I laid there and just sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. We fully expected it to be cancer but I was holding on to that little whim of hope for a miracle-maybe it was just pancreatitis, maybe they could treat it, maybe they could just remove it. No. Its just cancer. JUST cancer.

She called after mom gave me the news and I heard her say, "Hello" and I lost it. I could barely breathe. That made her lose it and she finally got out, "Will you be ok if I call you back later?"

I won't be ok. I will NOT be ok in a world where my Nana does not exist. Where I can't call her just for the hell of it to tell her that Bella had a bad night. Where I can't call her to let her listen to Bella babble. Where I can't go over to her house and watch her heart smile when Bella runs to her with open arms. Where I know I'll never get a Nana back scratch ever again. Where neck snuggles no longer make everything ok.

They are doing stains this afternoon to determine what stage it is in. There are no treatment options. We will simply treat the pain. How do you wake up every morning and live knowing that you are waiting for someone to die? How do you wait for something like that? I keep telling myself, "No, we will just go about this with the mentality that she is ALIVE and she is not 'dying' until those last few breaths." I refuse to let her lay in bed and be depressed and die. I know she has to accept this in her own way, deal with it in her own way, on her terms-but as she keeps saying, "We gotta pull up our boot straps". And all I keep thinking is, "Will Bella remember her? Will my next baby even exist before she is gone?"

How do you have Christmas when you know the person that has been the central point of your world your entire life is dying right in front of you? Normal doesn't exist anymore.

How do you not beat the living tar out of her son who is too much of an ass to come see his mother and father on what may be their last Christmas?