This is going to be a ramble… And honestly, I am writing this mostly for me.
My dad is the oldest of four siblings. Dad was born in 1943. His sister Susie came along in 1946. My Uncle Robert was born in 1949, and finally my Aunt Christine arrived in 1952.
While dad stayed in Seattle, his siblings moved all across the country… Hawaii, California, South Carolina. Over the years they all returned, but the first to come home was Aunt Christine. She, her husband (my Uncle Mike) and their two sons (Mike and Bob) came back when I was still in elementary school. They lived just two blocks away.
Mike, Bob and I went to the same school. Since I was two years older than Mike and eight years older than Bob, Aunt Christine would hire me to babysit. All the neighborhood kids knew my Aunt because she was a librarian at our local branch. She is also my god mama, and the keeper of all the Finney family’s genealogy. She always texts me old family photos, or 100 year old news articles she has found featuring great grandparents. She is tiny. Barely over 5 feet tall. I outgrew her when I was nine, and gave her hand me downs of my clothes and shoes. 😄
On Sunday night (March 26) I was still in Las Vegas with the stacking crew. We finished dinner at Nacho Daddy, and I was hanging out with Summer, Silverd and Silverd’s girl. The Silverd’s were packing for their early flight. Summer and I were chilling. Things were very mellow. Until my phone started ping ping ping-ing me.
I was getting texts from two of my other cousins. With terrible news. My Aunt Christine was being rushed to the hospital. Her son Bob had called her earlier that day. During their conversation my cousin noticed his mom was slurring her words, and using words that were disjointed and didn’t make sense. Not knowing what to do he called other family. These conversations led to a 911 call. Everyone thought she might be having a stroke. After arriving at the local hospital it turned out there was no stroke. Instead doctors discovered a brain tumor. 🥺
Upon finding the tumor, my aunt was immediately transferred by another ambulance to the University of Washington Medical Center. (My alma matter and home of the best neurology department in the Pacific Northwest.) My cousins let me know Aunt Christine would be having brain surgery the next day. They also told me our cousin Mike was flying to Seattle from Florida and that my Uncle Robert was flying in from Texas.
So after reading all of this… I started to lose my shit a bit. I went into the bathroom and was trying unsuccessfully not to cry. My goodbye to silverd and his girl was super hasty. I was tearing up and didn’t want to just start sobbing uncontrollably in front of everyone. I was panicked and worried and had gone from chill to freaking the f-ck out pretty much instantly. The last few years have just been one bad thing after the next, after the next, after the next. So, I often find myself in high alert, fight or flight mode really fast compared to the old days. It is hard to explain.
Anyway, I rushed back to my hotel and spent the night worried and texting with family.
The next day while Summer, Fat E and I soaked up our last few hours in Vegas, Aunt Christine had brain surgery. It lasted about 3 hours, and a tumor the size of a ping pong ball was removed. When Aunt Christine woke up she managed to say she was cold, but the rest of her words were a jumble. I guess this isn’t unexpected after brain surgery.
Post surgery her mobility is slightly impaired. As is her speech. I guess she has also struggled to remember things like the year and the names of family members. Aunt Christine came home from the hospital Saturday April 2 with arrangements made for home health visits, physical therapy and speech therapy.
Today brought more news. The worst news. Today the oncology results arrived. It turns out the tumor is cancer, a Glioblastoma. Glioblastoma is an aggressive, incurable cancer. Treatment includes resection of the tumor, followed by radiation and chemotherapy. Because of the tumor’s location in the brain, surgery cannot remove all of the cancer cells as doing so could cause irreparable brain damage (complete loss of speech and motor function). The leftover cancer cells can quickly grow into a new tumor, leading patients to have multiple brain surgeries. While all patients have a different journey, average life expectancy post diagnosis is 6-18 months. 😪
I am so sad.
Sad for my aunt, her husband, her sons, her grand babies. Sad for my dad, his brother and his other sister to be facing the loss of their baby sister. Sad for me. My own mom has been so sick with her own cancer struggle the past 3 years. And my dad’s other sister has fought through both ovarian and breast cancer. I think because Aunt Christine is so much younger than they all are and because she always looked healthier than everyone, part of me has counted on her being there for me after my parents are gone. So this is just another unexpected piece of sh-t from the universe. Plus, my grandparents both lived to almost 100 with very few health set backs. So I think me and my cousins have all just thought our parents would be as lucky. Like genetics owed us all longevity.
I don’t really know what comes next. There are doctor’s appointments next week. One is to take out surgical staples. One is to discuss a treatment plan. My poor cousin Mike has to fly home to his family in Florida Saturday. Having been separated from my mom during her cancer battle due to Covid restrictions, my heart aches for Mike that he he can’t be with his mom too.
I don’t really know how to wrap this up…
Tell your family how much you love them. Tell your friends how much you love them. Laugh together. Say yes to get togethers. Share stories. Hug. Stay up late to be together. Time is irreplaceable and your people are priceless. ❤️