my nut's an aunt

i'm debating if i should post this, i had to write it, should it be posted? the end is near. the end of the end. the tumor is in my aunt's frontal lobe and after checking if the tumor is no longer responding to chemo, we'll stop the chemo and then it will be the beginning of the end. these tumors can double in 10 days. inside a skull, this doesn't give too much room to expand. the end is near.

Dear my A Nut, my dear aunt,

Fond memories have always surrounded your visits. We used to do "girl talk" even when I was a wee lass. Being the second child and a girl, no less, I got the majority of the girl talk. It was a special time for us to hang out and it was always away from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the house.

We would talk about everything. We would practice French braids as well. You usually didn't have long enough hair but you were very good at doing mine. I would practice on Barbie dolls after you left. They had some really stylish French braids going on. Also, the horses next door? Never looked better. They really rocked the French braid.

As I grew older, I know we grew apart. Those two summers we spent with you did not make things better. You let us into your home but I had the distinct feeling you were not very happy about it. I'm sorry we cramped your style. Blame it on my mother, she's the one who decreed I couldn't drive all the way into Dallas. What a communist.

These days you're just so happy. That's the thing about this whole brain tumor. You're not mad, you're not upset anymore. You're just being. You're just waiting. My mother, your sister, has always been there for you. She's the one who's there every day watching over you, hanging out with you, trying to make this time last and taking care of everything. Her heart, it's in the right place. You are in good hands.

She sent out an update about you to the family just yesterday. It includes some of the things you're saying now. I'm not one to make fun of other people *coughcough* but I think you're a good enough sport to think this is funny. In fact I know it. That little crack about pairing you up with alzheimer's patients confirmed your feelings.

We went out to dinner last week and here are some of the gems I can home with:
Becky: I think we're going to a Mexican restaurant. Do you like Mexican food?
A Nut: Yes, I think I do. [big smile]
Becky: Well, what do you think you'd like? Any ideas?
A Nut: Well the thing about Mexican food is that it's good. And the thing about that is that it has some really nice sounds.
Becky: Hmmmm, well, do fajitas sound good?
A Nut: I LOVE fajitas!

Becky: [at dinner] So did Grandma Tulip ever call you guys by your middle names?
A Nut: Well the thing about Colleen is that she has really nice hair. Her hair, it just grows and you have to let it grow. Colleen has really nice hair.

While in the car.
Becky: Mary, do you have a favorite Christmas song?
A Nut: The thing about that is that it varies. So, I'm gonna think about that and I'll get back to you. *giggles* I'm not really going to think about that.

While sitting on the couch.
A Nut: I think I have to go to the store.... or the store. Soooo, two things. *laughs*
Becky: Do you need to go to the bathroom?
A Nut: Well, maybe on the way to the airport. [follows me to the bathroom]

Another bathroom phrase:
I think I need to open a map.

It's like you're looking right into my eyes and you're asleep. It's like you're sleep talking all day long. I kind of love it. My mother, your sister, also reported that you said, while your dog was peeing, "“I like the way he does that with sincerity.” I think this wins for the best phrase yet. My mother, your sister, questioned you on this observation to which you replied, “You know, he did that with credibility.” You love that dog.

The other thing you've been doing is stealing reading glasses. You're like a glasses hoarder. You have them on your shirt, you pick up other's glasses and put them on. Also, you don't need to wear reading glasses while watching the TV. I don't think that's their intended usage.

You remind me of your mother more and more every time I see you. As you remember, she had dementia. She collected tissues. She was the one that introduced me to the phrase, "tissue? I don't even know you!" Tissues were everywhere. Up her sleeve, in every compartment in her purse. In every pocket of every piece of clothing she was wearing. She was like a walking box of tissues with died red hair.

You've been collecting paper towels. At first, this mystified me but I think I figured it out. When you walked the dog at your house you would pick up the poop in a paper towel. Now, I've never agreed with this practice because, ew but I know you're preparing to take the dog out. You never know when you're going to need to pick up some poop. Your pockets full of paper towels, you're ready to take on the poop filled world.

Now, we're going to the doctor today for yet another MRI. If your tumor isn't going to respond to these latest drugs everything's going to stop. It's been since February. Not even a year. I know we all know that you don't have much time left but this will be the beginning of the very end. The very, very end. We'll all be together and it won't be scary, I promise. I also promise that I'll take care of my mother, your sister. She's going to miss you.

We'll need a lot of paper towels because this tumor taking you away is pretty shitty. I knew you'd appreciate that one.

Love,
Becky


Update: we went to the doctor today and she had another MRI. it has at least tripled since october. we're stopping chemo and they've given us only six weeks left. balls, you guys, this sucks. thanks for your love and support.