In the past two weeks Katie has been to emergency three times.  I don't like emergency rooms.  In the last year of my mum's life I spent way too much time in emergency rooms.  In the last three weeks of mum's life we went to emergency half a dozen times I think.  That was two years ago and in my mind the two were getting mixed together.  Katie, Joseph (her caregiver) and I spent all day in emergency on Monday, waiting to see a doctor, waiting for test results, waiting for a room so the doctor could cut into the abscess on Katie's wrist.  The next morning when I checked on Katie her hand was worse, swollen and more painful, so back to emergency.  She's now on IV antibiotics and doing well.  I am so thankful.

I'm scared my daughter will die.  I'm even more scared that her death will be a relief.  Or I'm scared that my heart will be so badly broken by her death that I will never recover.  These are the thoughts I've been having this past week. 

There's more I want to write but I'm worn out.  My second friend with cancer, also a Shirley, is now in the hospital dying.  I wrote her husband an email this evening telling him much I enjoyed working with Shirley. She is a kind, gentle soul with a wonderful sense of humor.  I saw her last week at the Cross when she came in for a scan.  I gave her a hug and I still find it impossible to believe that she has only days left. 

I'm tired of winter.  Tired of cancer and death.  Tired of illness and doctors.  Just tired.