Bad day yesterday

TW: Topics of death, cancer, and sickness

Yesterday my aunt died.

I got a text a few weeks ago from my boss wanting to know if I'd like to work in the grocery department for the first two weeks of February, Monday to Friday 8am-5pm. Currently I only get two 4 hour shifts a week, so I was more than willing to do extra work. 

The day started out pretty alright, I was tired, but ready to take on the day. We cleared one aisle before I started feeling not so good. I excused myself and ran to the washroom, feeling like I was about to get sick. I didn't make it to the washroom. I got sick on my way there. Obviously there was no recovering from that. I texted one of my higher up's to let them know what happened before calling a cab and going home.

I got home and told my mom what happened.

"Maybe it was the meatloaf" she suggested.

"Yeah, it did taste kinda off.." I said

"That's because it wasn't my recipe it was your stepdad's mother's recipe" she said

She then proceeded to tell me to tell me what was in the meat loaf... when I tell you that this recipe was peak white people behavior I really mean it:

- ground beef

- A WHOLE STICK OF BUTTER

- french onion soup mix

- ketchup

girl WHAT?? No wonder I was throwing up. That's a whole load of grease!

Now you may be wondering, Bria, I thought this blog post was about cancer, why are we talking about you getting sick? Don't worry, we'll get there. My day was about to go from bad to terrible in less than 30 minutes.

I got in bed, dozing off in my sick hazy state, not even 30 minutes had passed when my mom starts frantically calling my name. I get up and follow her voice, she's there in he hallway just outside my sisters room. For some context, my sister is pregnant, so when  I see my mom outside her door frantically telling me to go into my sisters room I thought she was going into labour or something.

I got into her bedroom and saw she was fine. Immediately my mind went to my aunt, who's been in the hospital since new years.

"Is L dead?"

I was hoping the answer was no, but my mom just stayed silent, looking at me through teary eyes, and I knew the answer was yes. She sat on my sister's bed crying. I must've been in shock for the first little bit, I just stared at her emotionless while she cried. I left the bedroom and went to the kitchen. Once I was boiling water for tea it hit me:

She's not coming back. That's two people in less than two years that've died from cancer in my life. I hate it. I want them back. I didn't even get to say goodbye to either of them. I don't even remember the last thing I told her. 

I started to cry.

I've been crying on and off for the last two days. Tomorrow I have to go back to work but I don't know if I have the mental strength to do it. There's a woman at work, K, who looks so much like L. They have the same eyes, same voice, they wear their hair the same in that "just so" fashion. They even wear the same perfume. I don't know how I'm gonna look at K tomorrow with out breaking down crying. 

Would it be weird to ask for a hug?

"Hey K, you look like my dead aunt, could I have a hug?"

Yeah, it's probably weird.

I'm hoping that with time I'll be better, but I don't know how long that will be. I think I might put my feelings into my art, that's always helped me. 

I feel unsteady and uncertain, but this too shall pass.

~ Bria

#fuckcancer