Friday, January 7, 2011

7-365 Kettle (and another sad, sad day)

I snapped this little pic late last night because I didn't have a photo ready. First of all, it ain't for tea. I hate hot tea (unless, for some strange reason, it's Jasmine Tea at a Thai Restaurant) and never drink the stuff unless I'm sick and then it involves lemon, honey, and a shot of Jack Daniels. But, one of Vince's Christmas presents was a French Press Coffee Maker, so the kettle is now a nice little fixture on the stove.
But the reason I didn't get a better picture, and that this one is an afterthought, is because I got more seriously bad news yesterday. Without divulging too much about various complex relationships, my brother's close friend, a woman he's loved since high school, lost, then rediscovered a couple of years ago, underwent brain surgery to remove a massive tumor (size of a tennis ball) that was discovered right before the new year. She survived the surgery, but they confirmed that the tumor is a stage 4 gioblastoma, the most lethal kind. If she responds well to radiation and chemo, she can hope to survive 18 months, maybe two years. Without treatment, the prognosis is 12 weeks.

She had just gotten engaged the evening before they discovered the tumor. Her fiance of 24 hours took her to the doctor due to severe headaches she'd been experiencing. She's had a very challenging life, the kind they make movies about on the Lifetime cable channel. She's been a single mother to her 16-year-old daughter. She has no insurance. And with all of that, she is a beautiful, positive, charming, happy, endearing, warm, loving, giving human being.

My brother is fragile.

Tomorrow I'm going with him to the hospital where she's currently being treated (about a 3 hour drive from his house) so he can see her.

To add to the sadness, I have another friend from my youth whose husband of 16 years was diagnosed with the same thing 6 months ago. She's in another state, so I don't see her, but he is following this same path. He has lasted through 6 months of treatment, but it is very unlikely he will make it another six. He too has teen-age children.

I know the picture of the kettle isn't exactly gripping, but I hope you enjoy it. I did enjoy taking the picture. And I swear, once again, that I plan to fully enjoy my life as long as I have it.


  1. Holy cow woman! It's not a good time to know you is it?

    Sorry, I prolly shouldn't be making jokes, but at a certain point it's laugh or weep.

    I'm very sorry for your family and friends. I knew someone who died of a similar cause a few years back. It was stunning in it's swiftness.

    It's hard to say I hope things turn out well, but I hope they turn out as well as they can.

  2. Sending hugs to you sweetie... you've had a rough go of it the past few weeks. Living life to its fullest is a lesson we can all take from these hard knocks. xoxo

  3. Damn I've been a bad blogger friend, here to comment for the 1st time in 4 days, though I've been looking!

    I'm so sorry to hear about your friend, whatever course of treatment she takes, I hope it's as painless as possible, even if the final outcome is pretty much preordained.

  4. Wow.
    I'm so sorry.
    That's horrible.

    (re: the photo. the kettle we got as a wedding gift is a stove decoration here as well. i think it makes it look more like a "real" kitchen. lol.)

  5. That is horrible news about your friends. I do hope that your friend will be able to get treatment and not be denied due to lack of insurance.