General

When the cancer took Ellie she was skin and bones, pale as a ghost, face masking the ordeal inside. Most days she asked Meg to read her a story, something pretty to help her mind escape. But there were times she screamed in pain and there was no doubting the agony. Meg would call Dr. Bernard and the morphine would be increased, sliding her into a long dream, her body so still that everyone wondered if she had passed on.

By Angela Abraham (daisy), March 8, 2016.
General

In the end it isn't dying that scares me but pain. If I don't wake up in the morning I will know nothing of it. My affairs are in order, my husband and children are as provided for as they are ever going to be. I have an army of friends committed to raising them like besotted aunts. I grieved for the loss of life I would should have had with them months ago, I cried until my eyes ran dry and my chest heaved violently. I'm not over it. I never will be. I wanted to see my daughter grow to be a woman and my son to be a man as good as his father. But that isn't my lot and I have accepted that the Lord has called me home before I was ready to come. I have stopped asking “Why me?” I have stopped raging at God. He works as fast as he can thought the scientists and doctors, I know. It just wasn't fast enough for me. So now just let me kiss the beloved people who have graces my life and go to Him. I am ready.

By Angela Abraham (daisy), January 10, 2015.
General

His words splinter inside me causing more pain than the cancer. Terminal. Hospice. Comfort care only. He's telling me that there will be no more walks in the park, no more birthdays with Hank at the bowling alley and I won't see another snow season. My life from here on in is four walls and pain medication until I die. I don't want it, not any of it. Last year I put down my spaniel to save him from a a painful end, why can't I have the same? Perhaps if I scream and scream for pain medication I can get an overdose, slide out on a feather-lined cloud into the arms of the almighty.

By Angela Abraham (daisy), January 10, 2015.
General

The ending of life is expected, we all live in this mortal plane. What I resent is that death being longer and more painful than it needs to be. My body will self destruct, day by day. The tumour will grow, spread, consume, squash the very organs that work to sustain it. I've had a pretty good life, better than most, I don't need to hang on as a living ghoul; an "exit" pill would be kinder than all the attention from the hospice staff that lies ahead.

By Angela Abraham (daisy), March 8, 2016.