It's Hard Being a Human

2025 absolutely sucked!

It started in February. On February 21st, Brittany got a phone call that her mother had lung cancer. The next day, we found out it was in her bones, brain, stomach, and adrenal glands. She had 4 months without treatment, 7 without. She chose no treatment. Brittany went to take care of her mother at her sister’s house and I kept Niam, with the gracious help of my mother and Henry, because I was taking classes for work.

She passed April 27, 2025

In May, I reconnected with my best friend, Gina. We had a falling out, which seems so trivial now. However, like I told her son, it’s been 25 years. We were passed due for our first argument.

At any rate, lung cancer. There was a lot of back and forth in her mind. While treatment was never in question, the type of treatment was. Does she go the traditional route with chemo and radiation. Exposure to things that simply aren’t good for us, or a more holistic approach. Either way, it’s a gamble on you’re life. You just have to be at peace the ultimate decision. And, if I’m honest, she never was.. with either. It was a ping pong effect all throughout. But, when the chemo was done and the radiation was done, she had clear scans. Gone. As though it never happened. Yay!

Around the end of September, I was planning a trip to Massachusetts to see Gina. She received a devastating call that her beloved cousin, Anthony, had passed unexpectedly, roughly a week before his wedding and the announcement of his unborn child.

My trip was delayed.

Around that EXACT same time, my Henry (more on him in my next entry,) took a turn for the worse in his fight with Parkinson’s disease and kidney disease.

My step-sister Sheila took a leave from her job to come help. This has been a long journey up until that point. Five years of fighting both of these nasty diseases.

Nights were long. Henry needed around the clock care, and because he was on dialysis, Hospice was not an option. His walk became even more unsteady than what it had been. He fell often. He resigned to a walker and then ultimately a wheelchair to get to the bathroom etc. Nights were filled with confusion and dementia. He could no longer sleep in the room with my mother, as their bed is very high and he was literally up and down all night. He slept in the recliner and one of us was right beside him in the other. (They have a love seat that has recliners built in.)

So, we took shifts. Between Brittany, Sheila, my mama, and I someone with with him 24/7. He would forget he couldn’t walk and try to get up alone. Eventually, Sheila bought a chair alarm so if we fell asleep, we could very easily be woken up.

He hated dialysis. From day one, it made him sick the rest of the day. But now, it was downright unbearable. Over and over, we told him it was his decision and if he chose to stop, we would support his decision. However, somehow, he was convinced that if he stopped his life insurance policy would no longer be good. He didn’t want to leave my mama with nothing. So, we watched him physically suffer.

His chair time was at 6 a.m. It was too early. His confusion from the night before had not worn off. My mom got his time moved to 12 noon. Dialysis was no longer working as it should. His extremities became more swollen by the day, regardless of the dialysis.

On October 13th, my mom made the very hard decision of ending his treatment. Hospice came in.

On October 25th, at 4:20 p.m., Henry passed away peacefully. His bedside was surrounded by my mother, his favorite niece, his daughter, and me. Our house was full of nearly his entire family. He slipped away surrounded by love.

Back to Gina.

Shortly after her treatment was completed, and after Henry passed, she began to have a hard time remembering words. There were lots of “uh’s” in the conversation. And we laughed. “Spit it out, junior.”

“Chemo brain” is what she believed this to be. A few weeks later it wasn’t funny anymore. She could barely communicate. Her primary wanted her to go to the hospital for blood work, etc.

The result? Tumors in her brain. Two large ones and at least two small ones. Surgery was eminent to remove the two large masses. Otherwise she would likely have one to two weeks to live.

This past friday, she completed a roughly 8 hour surgery. They got them. She is recovering from that surgery and is better than before she went in. But it’s not over. The small ones are still there. She has a long road ahead of her.

Soooo… yeah. 2025 sucked bootyhole. Three of my favorite people were very sick. Two of those three passed. And there for a minute I was afraid the other one would too. The people I love the most, who love them also, were suffering with heartbreak.

Here’s to 2026!!!