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breast cancer death

The most nurturing parts of our bodies. The most comforting parts of our bodies. The softest. Besides our loving hearts.

When they were full of milk, the were life giving to our newborns. To our little ones.

And now they are killing us.

Something is growing inside of them. Something harmful. Something deadly. It is killing us.

Breast cancer death is so scary, the search engines will only return statistics, numbers, survival rates. No descriptions of the dying process. No progression of the disease. Only statistics. Only numbers.

So scary. Sometimes so life threatening. Sometimes so deadly.

If you are looking for medical information about Breast Cancer, click here.

When I saw Veronica for the first time, she was already bald from her latest round of chemo. The first thing I saw were her large blue eyes. Open, soft and tired. So tired.

She had survived a first round of chemo by 6 years. Been able to share some time with her husband Don, a retired physician. General practitioner. Enjoy their garden. Their beautiful house. Their shared belief in Tibetan Buddhism. Their daily practice of meditating.

The breast cancer had returned a few months ago. Another round of chemo did not bring the desired health.

Veronica knew she was dying her breast cancer death. She was ready. Knew where she was going based on her belief. Was doing her best to enjoy these last months. These last days. With friends. With family members. With grown children.

She was getting weaker.

She needed help with food preparations. Needed help to get from her bedroom to her living room. And back to her bed. Needed help to go to the bathroom. And back to her bed. A hospital bed came. We created command central. All to Veronica's specifications.

Room on one side for her daily New York Times. Her many books. Her post it notes for things to remember. Her phone. A garbage can.

Room on the other side for a constant supply of green tea. Her chap stick. Tissues. Pain medications. Other medications.

She slowly topped reading. Started resting more. Started sleeping more. No more phone calls. No more food. Only sips of green tea.

It was getting harder to make her comfortable. We found lots of pillows to prop up arms. Prop up legs. Prop up her head wrapped up in a scarf. It always felt so cold. So bare.

She still loved looking out out of her window onto the weeping willow in her back yard. In her cancer death final days.

She saw her last visitors. Said her last good byes. Was ready.

She died in the early morning hours. It was peaceful.

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