That's Pretty Tacky

First of all, feeling guilty, I completed all of my assigned homework. Surprisingly, it really wasn't bad, and I might even say that it was kind of fun. I'm sick like that.

On to a pretty crazy story. I heard back from an email today from the Wenatchee Brain Tumor Support Group. I was hoping to find some comrades, or like they said, a support group, but within the first sentence I realized I was sorely mistaken. It turns out that the support group was consisting of three members, of which two have passed away in the past two months. The surviving member asked me to head up the support group and contact local doctors from the area that might be interested in helping facilitate the group. I feel bad, but I don't feel up to putting another a ball in my rotation. I guess she needs help, but unfortunately I went to the support group because I was needing help myself. Ordinarily, I would gladly jump at the chance to help someone solve a problem, or devote my time but I'm just trying to function. Maybe in a year I can help spearhead the support group, or at least help out. It's hard to say "no" both myself, and to someone else, but it's what I have to do. I hope that the final member is doing alright. 66% of their group is quite a hit. I can only imagine how hard that must be for her. These two members were people. They had family, and friends. I guess this isn't a pretty crazy story, it's just a sad story. Not the ending anyone wants.

The worst part is that I was originally trying to find the humor about this. I told Danny and my mom that I tried to contact the Wenatchee Brain Tumor Support Group and that two of the three members passed away in the last two months and I said, "Not a very good selling point." That's pretty tacky. I guess when we deal with the unknown (like the future of my brain tumor) we try to lighten the mood, or at least I do. But it was still pretty tacky.