I have the need for a momentary lapse of control. And I’ll apologize in advance if I offend anyone, but I have to say this. I FUCKING HATE CANCER!!!! I HATE IT! I BEYOND-WORDS HATE IT!!! If cancer was a person, I would stab it in the eye, beat it to a bloody pulp, and then I’d do a little dance on its dead carcass.
We just got the news that my father-in-law’s prostate cancer has progressed to his skull, his spine, his shoulder blade, his ribs and both of his femurs. My mother-in-law isn’t handling the news very well — she lost her first husband to cancer (melanoma) too — she’s been having some heart issues, and the added stress isn’t helping.
I know we usually reserve our collective Tripawd mojo for our canine friends, but we could really use some for Rio’s gramma and grampa, too.
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