She's been old for a long time in every way but her heart. She got a probable diagnosis of bone cancer today; when I call for the final test results tomorrow it's just a formality. They wanted to show me the x-rays, but I wouldn't let them.
Knowing something was wrong, and something was bound to go wrong anyway, given her 15+ long years on earth, doesn't, oddly, make this one bit easier. It's ok if it's hard on me, I just won't let it be hard on her.
The bad thing about Google is that it leaves, in this case, nothing to hope. This part of her little body will fail, then this, then this.
She's at home, and the pills brought her back to happy today. I won't let her go out sad, so must time this exactly right. She must go out with love and joy still alive in her soul. And that's going to fucking kill me.
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