I miss Diane everyday.
She died in her early thirties. She had three kids, beautiful wonderful children that she fought hard to live for, but in the end, she grew tired of medicine and hospitals. I talked to Diane the morning of the afternoon of her death. She told me she was tired of living, tired of fighting, and was ready to let go. I didn't know what to say, I didn't want her to die, and I knew that once she gave up the fight the end would be near.
And it was.
She'd called me when they discovered the cancer had moved into her brain. A few days after her surgery, I jumped into the car and drove several hours to the hospital to see her. When she wasn't in bed, I freaked out, sure that something had happened. But no, Diane was out in the hallway telling other patients about the beauty of Jesus Christ.
When I got her back into bed, after barking at her for a few minutes, she smiled that smile and said, "It's all right. It's going to be okay. God's got my back."
I've never known anyone as brave as Diane.
A few years earlier, she'd found a lump under her arm, but toward the breast. She showed it to her doctor and he said it was nothing but a cyst and not to worry. She mentioned it again the following year because it had started to cause her pain. He asked her if she wanted the lump removed to which she replied, yes.
As a matter of course, they did a biopsy and it turned out to be cancer. And of course, the cancer had spread. When we talked, her biggest concern was for my soul, not for her health or even her death. "What is health?" she would say, "if the soul is dying?"
On top of having my conversion as one of her top priorities she felt that as long as she had to visit the hospital so often, she might as well take her message there as well. So, she did. Always that beautiful smile and uplifting voice bringing good news to her fellow patients.
When I was first diagnosed with Crohn's disease, the first person I thought of was Diane. She'd get how devastating this disease is, she'd listen to me just as I'd listened to her. The only difference was, she could make people feel better. When she was at her lowest, I'd try and find the words that would give her comfort, but I didn't have the faith she had. I wasn't even sure there was a God back then.
I am sure now. I hear Him/Her in every bird that chirps outside my window, the wind in the pine trees, the roar of a rain swollen creek. I see Him/Her in the faces of my children, their spouses, my grandchildren. I see Him in the love my husband has for me. I don't know if God is a Him or a Her and if I think about it too much, I'll get lost in my original idea for this day of breast cancer awareness, which about my friend, Diane.
I don't have my buddy anymore, but I have her in my memory. Wherever you are, my friend, you don't have to worry about me anymore. One day soon, we'll meet again.
(((hugs)))
Louann
She died in her early thirties. She had three kids, beautiful wonderful children that she fought hard to live for, but in the end, she grew tired of medicine and hospitals. I talked to Diane the morning of the afternoon of her death. She told me she was tired of living, tired of fighting, and was ready to let go. I didn't know what to say, I didn't want her to die, and I knew that once she gave up the fight the end would be near.
And it was.
She'd called me when they discovered the cancer had moved into her brain. A few days after her surgery, I jumped into the car and drove several hours to the hospital to see her. When she wasn't in bed, I freaked out, sure that something had happened. But no, Diane was out in the hallway telling other patients about the beauty of Jesus Christ.
When I got her back into bed, after barking at her for a few minutes, she smiled that smile and said, "It's all right. It's going to be okay. God's got my back."
I've never known anyone as brave as Diane.
A few years earlier, she'd found a lump under her arm, but toward the breast. She showed it to her doctor and he said it was nothing but a cyst and not to worry. She mentioned it again the following year because it had started to cause her pain. He asked her if she wanted the lump removed to which she replied, yes.
As a matter of course, they did a biopsy and it turned out to be cancer. And of course, the cancer had spread. When we talked, her biggest concern was for my soul, not for her health or even her death. "What is health?" she would say, "if the soul is dying?"
On top of having my conversion as one of her top priorities she felt that as long as she had to visit the hospital so often, she might as well take her message there as well. So, she did. Always that beautiful smile and uplifting voice bringing good news to her fellow patients.
When I was first diagnosed with Crohn's disease, the first person I thought of was Diane. She'd get how devastating this disease is, she'd listen to me just as I'd listened to her. The only difference was, she could make people feel better. When she was at her lowest, I'd try and find the words that would give her comfort, but I didn't have the faith she had. I wasn't even sure there was a God back then.
I am sure now. I hear Him/Her in every bird that chirps outside my window, the wind in the pine trees, the roar of a rain swollen creek. I see Him/Her in the faces of my children, their spouses, my grandchildren. I see Him in the love my husband has for me. I don't know if God is a Him or a Her and if I think about it too much, I'll get lost in my original idea for this day of breast cancer awareness, which about my friend, Diane.
I don't have my buddy anymore, but I have her in my memory. Wherever you are, my friend, you don't have to worry about me anymore. One day soon, we'll meet again.
(((hugs)))
Louann
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