No one really wants to die

Things have changed and are continuing to do so. My tumor has grown much bigger and it's starting to really hurt. The hardest part is the constant and total fatigue. All I want to do is lay on the couch and play with this machine or read or think about all the things I should be doing. I feel for the first time that I'm heading toward death if I don't get some type of treatment that will reduce this tumor.

I've read about a program called CyberKnife at U of M that I really want to try. It's not a knife but a super-duper radiation machine that's much more accurate than regular radiation. They said they'd need a CT scan first and weren't sure if they could use it for a protruding tumor.

Only two weeks ago or so, I welcomed the thought of cancer proceeding quickly to take my life. Death is better than depression, I concluded. Of course, I had mixed feelings about leaving my loved ones. Especially little Aiden, and Ava. Then there's, of course, George, since we love each other so much and are so close, April and Joy and Susie and Carol, and yes, mom and Jon and our new cousins who have turned out to be so dear. Heather would be very sad, too. But nevertheless, in spite of all that goodness and love, I welcomed this blameless way to an early exit.

I haven't been depressed for weeks now. Not that it's sunshine and roses (especially when winter has arrived), but as long as I get to rest as much as I need and spend cozy evenings with George and feel well enough to enjoy Aiden Day and then sleep the next day. I can only handle one active day. Then I'm shot for the whole next day. My stomach hurts badly, mostly because of extreme constipation that makes my life miserable most of the time. But it's the tumor that's the worst. It's grown so much. It sticks out so much that it's shiny because there's so much pressure against it. It goes way inside, too, who knows how much . What if I have a heart attack and I'm driving - with Aiden yet. But what do I do? I want to just pierce this thing and drain it and get some of the poison out so as to alleviate the pain.

I am not ready to die. Soon, but not yet.