Today marks the 3 month anniversary that I have quit smoking entirely. Not only have I quit, but I now hate the smell and cannot stand to be around it as the slightest whiff makes me nauseous! Yay me!
So where is the irony? She will deny it if asked, and does not know that I know, but my grandmother was diagnosed with lung cancer over the weekend. She went into the hospital with a distended abdomen and a twist in her intestines and, when examining her, they found an unquestionable shadow (or mass) on her lungs. She refused treatment, which is probably wise at her age, and feels that the doctors do not know what they are talking about. However, because she refused to cooperate, there is also no way of knowing what stage the cancer is at. Considering she is a veteran of WWII and smoked a pack a day for most of her life until a few years ago I am not the least surprised about this, but it is upsetting. Honestly though, if it keeps her happy for the rest of her life to be in denial about it then who am I to complain?
So there it is… irony and cancer… and a 3 month anniversary…
