I'm not a celebrity watcher. Still, the news that Lynn Redgrave had died peacefully after a seven year battle with breast cancer came as a bit of a shock to me. I knew that she had cancer. I knew that she had done a series of pictures on it. I thought it was very brave of her. I remember thinking at the time, "I don't think that I could do that," and years later, I didn't. I dealt with cancer and there are no pictures. Well. Very few of them, anyway. And I'm clothed in all of them.
Anyways, you know, cancer leaves a person with all sorts of questions, and I try mightily to squelch them. I mean, I get off track sometimes, and I worry about things, but mostly, I simply try to forget about it. Put it in the past, in its own little compartment and simply not think about it anymore. It's hard because I'm also trying to be vigilent about my own health. There's a line in there, I suppose, but it gets blurred sometimes. So, I stumble, and then regain my footing, stumble again, regain my footing. I read about Lynn Redgrave over at Paula's and I remembered when I first read the news. "She died after a seven year struggle with breast cancer.' There is something a little shocking in reading the stark words, the plain unvarnished truth. Breast cancer can kill you. *blink* The knowledge is there, in that little compartment right along with all the rest of it. It always has been there, I suppose, but it comes as a shock to read the words anyway. Reading about someone who has died always seems to unlock that little compartment, and all that crap comes tumbling out. For an instant I am drowning in what-ifs, but then I take a deep breath, put all that stuff back into its little compartment, say a little prayer, and get on with living. That's the only way I know to handle it.