“I am here for my brother’s colonoscopy and endoscopy. He is my little brother. My only brother. He’s 40 and I’m 50.
He is a two-time heart transplant recipient here. We all have Lynch Syndrome. It means we are genetically inclined to have cancers. I lost my mother right here. That is why I was breaking up. She died from Leukemia. I moved down here to take care of her and my brother. We thought my brother would go first. We lost my father to colon cancer when he was 40.
My mother’s Leukemia came out of nowhere and she died three months later. I had to pull the plug on her on Mother’s Day last year. That was tough.
I love this place. It is one of my favorite places in the word, but I haven’t been here since my mother died.
We were a super-close family. My dad was in the Army and we traveled around the world a lot. We have great stories that I keep in my head and my heart. I recently found a couple of my mom’s voice mails that I didn’t know I had.
I also lost 17 people when I was in the service. I am handling the deaths. It’s all I can do.I have no medical insurance and I am probably riddled with all kinds of stuff. I try to take good care of myself and live life, but you start dying the day you are born.
They are all gone. I am the only one left and I am only 50. I don’t know why it’s me. You have to try to keep your head straight as long as you can. You can’t wallow in self-pity. You are allowed to grieve. You can’t keep it bottled up.”