Breakdown

Sorry I haven't written anything. Maybe I will soon. It was just too raw and hurried then. I couldn't put down what I felt.

So, we now jump forward almost a month since the death of Geoffrey Dykstra.
Why is it that I can't stand church? Several reasons.
Church brings back the rawness and the hurt. Songs about God and love, they hurt. The Prayer Request list in Youth School, that hurts too. Reading the Bible: don't even get me started.
The people there are so clingy. I have the "cling-ons" eight year olds that love me to death and actually fight to be the one that holds my hand. AKA: no breathing room. My friends are clingy too. What if I don't want to walk arm in arm? I need my space! It doesn't help that all of them except one have never had any real tragedy in their life. Today's lesson was on the "Storms of Life." The teacher asked us if any of us had had any real storms. No one had.
I'm tired of the kind comments. My mom explaining the situation to people just made me break down. Can you believe some one actually told me that "He's in a better place." TELL ME SOMETHING I DON'T KNOW! Try not to use the carbon copy answers used in situations like this. The only one I think I could talk to would be my minister, and he was in the middle of a crowded room, and there's no way I was going to walk through that room with the tears all over y face. I would get too many hugs and too many looks of sympathy. Or pity. Whatever.
The last thing is that I don't want to be happy. They asked me to go to music practice after, but I couldn't. I didn't go back to church after youth school. I said I had to go to the bathroom, and went outside. To get out of music practice, I just said I had to go home and ran upstairs and started crying. My mom found me, we talked things out a bit, and we left.

So much for church. I'm angry.

Aftermath

Visitation tomorrow.  How am I going to get through it?

Shock

Geoffrey Dykstra

July 8, 1993~August 24, 2008

Newish development

G can't come home.  (That's what I'm going to call him... a nickname from way back when we had out own branch of VFD.)  He's at SickKids in Toronto, and they thought that he would come home after they gave him stuff for the pain.  Not anymore.  He's staying. Apparently he finds it really hard to breathe.

This whole situation has changed now.  Before I was worried that I wasn't going to be able to spend enough time with him when he got home... now I'm worried if I'll get to see him one last time.

I feel sick to my stomach with worry.

I just want to give a shout-out to all the staff at SickKids, and especially in the cancer ward, to thank them for being miracles in the lives of so many teens and kids.  Especially on the behalf of G.  And D, who had cystic fibrosis and died this June.  We miss you, girly.)

Diagnosis

The answer to all our fears is simple.

1.) Yes, it's cancer

2.) It's extremely aggressive

3.) It has spread to his bones

4.) It's non-treatable

5.) He has two months

So, in short, he has extremely aggressive, non-treatable bone cancer and has two months to live.

This can't be happening. 

It never ends... (from other blog, scribbles from Radish)

My friend has a probable diagnosis of cancer.

They don't know for sure, but he does have a massive tumour on his shoulder, and his body has been acting all weird all of a sudden.  They think that it might be an extremely aggressive kind of cancer.

I don't understand this.

I haven't done much ranting at God yet, but I'm sure I will, especially if it does turn out to be a huge, cancerous, aggressive tumour.  Oh great, I'm starting to cry again.  He's only fifteen!  He doesn't deserve this, actually, he's one of the last people in the world that deserves it.  He is the most hilarious, sarcastic, goofy,  and sweetest guy ever (a combination that is not always the best one, but is brilliant when it comes to him.)  He was one of my best friends in elementary school and made life bearable for me in grade five.

It just goes and goes and goes... the Year of the Cancer.  Three people I know have died from it, and two people (or will be two when the diagnosis is firm) have been diagnosed with an extremely aggressive kind.  My dad's best friend, a kid at my youth-group's dad, and a coach from my Orchestra have all passed away.  My next door neighbour and family friend for as long as I can remember has cancer throughout her whole body.  And now this...

Not to mention my Nana nearly dying in February and my oldest friend's best friend dying from cystic fibrosis...

It's too much.

We find out tomorrow.