
Seven years ago today, this awesome guy (who now strikes me as a Chuck Norris look alike), died from lung cancer:
Gordy & Me. I was about Ruthie’s age.
A few weeks ago Bryan and I watched the episode of Breaking Bad where Walter hears his official cancer diagnosis. I don’t remember all the details, but there was mention of Small Cell or Non-Small Cell lung cancer.
Gordy had one of these, but I don’t remember which one. My lack of memory is maddening sometimes, but I remember he had the kind that is rare for non-smokers to get.
At any rate, I never thought anything about anything as we watched a show about a guy with lung cancer until I heard the words, Small Cell Lung Cancer.
I heard those words like the crack of a whip or the shattering of glass – high and sharp in my ears, while the rest of the show and general ambiance in the room faded into a muffle, like I was wearing headphones.
And then it passed.
The moment was so unnatural that I half expected to hear a sad song with Ellen Pompeo’s voice narrating my thoughts.
Anyway. This picture reminds me that my kids have never been to the cabin.
Blargh.
Fuck Cancer.
Well that makes me cry a little. John’s dad is dying of cancer. I echo your sentiment.