Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks
Sunday, April 06, 2008 Two weeks ago, on Easter, a cousin of mine on my mom's side went to the doctor with a severe headache. This afternoon he was taken off life support. It was cancer, in his brain and elsewhere. I can't even say "long story short," because it's not that long of a story to begin with.
I don't get this. I don't get how this happens to a seemingly healthy 46-year-old man, a husband and father of two sons ages 16 and 22 with no risk factors that I know of. I've known people who've died in sudden accidents, and people who have succumbed to long illnesses (including a third-grade classmate), and a kid in my high school who pulled his parents' car into the garage late one spring and left the engine running. Those were all hard, obviously, but I'm having trouble getting my mind around this one.
I've always thought of death coming in two forms: slow, and sudden. Sudden, you don't have time to be concerned about anything. It happens, and you're done. Excused from the table, and don't worry about the dishes. Whereas over the long term, you might have months or years to get stuff taken care of. This in-between area where my cousin fell is one I've never given much thought to until now. His dad, my uncle, told my mom that my cousing didn't suffer and he was at peace, and I hope that's true.
You should have seen that guy tell a story, though. I remember one family gathering many years ago in particular at my aunt's house, with him and his older brother holding court in the kitchen. My mom comes from a big family, so there were enough aunts, uncles, and cousins that the huge room was packed. These are not quiet people, but my cousins had that room in the palm of their hands. I'd love to have that kind of storytelling ability.
I don't even think I'm going to be able to make it to the funeral. He lived in the far corner of Kansas, so far that I could drive to Kansas City from here and still be less than halfway there. It's roughly equidistant from Wichita and Amarillo, so flying to either city would be an imperfect solution. And with work the way it is right now, if the service happens during the week it's all moot anyway.
So I don't know. I don't have a point or a punchline or anything snappy to leave you with here. I’m just sad and a little freaked out. You'd think that after recapping the last season of Six Feet Under I'd be used to the idea of death being capricious and unpredictable, but it was also my job to be glib about that. Not feeling so glib right now. If you could just send good thoughts and prayers to the family of Russell Call, I'd appreciate it. That's pretty much what I'm doing. posted by M. Giant 9:09 PM 12 comments
Sorry to hear this news. The whole family will be in my prayers.
So sorry to hear your news. He and his family will be in my prayers.
I'm so sorry to hear this. You're right; this is the kind of situation that freaks me out the most.
I'm so sorry. You and all of Russell's friends and relatives are in my prayers. May Russell's name be a blessing.
I'm so sorry for your loss.
I'm so sorry about your cousin's death. Certain types of brain tumors can be incredibly aggressive, but they're rare enough that most people don't know someone who's died of one. Consulting a doctor about severe new headaches is always a good idea, but it doesn't sound like earlier diagnosis would have made much difference. Life is never more horribly unfair than when it comes to cancer.
I'm so sorry for your loss, M. Giant. Your family is in my thoughts.
So sorry to hear this. Very scary. Very sad.
// If you could just send good thoughts and prayers to the family of Russell Call, I'd appreciate it. //
Thoughts and prayers for all of you are on the way. So very very sorry for your loss.
I'm so sorry about the loss of your cousin, M. Giant. Your family and Russell's will be in my thoughts.
I'm so sorry for your loss. Keeping everyone in my thoughts & prayers. - JeniMull