Seriously, guys, I'm not trying to beat a dead horse or anything with all this "ha ha I quit smoking" stuff, but something happened today that really rattled me.
See, there is this blogger who I've been reading for, oh, a year or two now. I'd link to her blog, but she doesn't know me from Adam, and I don't know if she'd appreciate it, and to tell the truth, she's got her hands pretty full right now.
Because she went to the doctor with a persistent cough, and they did an x-ray, and holy motherfucking shit, they found masses. In her lungs.
And as far as I know, this woman is not a smoker and has never smoked, and yet. She has masses. In her lungs.
And I am well aware that it could be too late for me already. Even though I quit in April, I spent the previous thirty years before that lighting up with abandon. Frankly, I have already made my bed, and some day down the road, I may have to lie in it.
But this poor woman? Who, as far as I know, has never smoked? Is facing my worst nightmare. Sitting in a doctor's office and being told, "We've found something."
I am pulling for this woman right now just as hard as I can. With every fucking fiber of my being, I am hoping, hoping, hoping that she will be fine. Because she doesn't deserve this. I may deserve it, but she certainly doesn't.
I just want to cry.
I can only imagine how she feels.