I just walked in the door not 5 minutes ago from fishing with my son and husband. It was a beautiful night on the lake, bugs and birds and lapping water and the zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz of the reel and junk like that...Joe caught 2 fish and it was a nice time. Until.............until we got back to the shore and I couldn't get out of the boat. My legs are so weak and my knees hurt terribly when I tried to kneel in the bow, and I tried to find a position that would allow me to swing one of my legs over the side but I couldn't do it without a lot of pain.
So with a straight face I just DID IT....I didn't want them to know how bad it hurt and I didn't want them to see just how mad I was at this stupid cancer....and I just wanted to scream obscenities. Joe had already asked me once today if I was going to survive....I said, "when was the last time you saw your mother give up?" and he said, "Never".....I couldn't let the kid down.
After climbing into the truck I looked out the window to hide my face and I cried....the teary kind...the kind where water streams from your eyes but you don't make a sound. There may be no crying in fishing but there is certainly crying in cancer.
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