10-20-2005, 10:53 PM
I lost my best friend in high school to leukemia. It wasn't death, but I still lost him. He couldn't leave the house ever, or he'd get sick and die. He couldn't walk on his own, cause his bones were so brittle he could fall, crack his head, and die. I was 15 and didn't really understand that then. As of late, I have seen what someone's family goes through when a loved one has cancer again. I was on leave back home and I had gotten all dressed up in my Class-As for some pictures for my Grandmother. When I was done and ready to leave the mall, a teenage girl stopped me and asked me to visit her sister in the hospital. She said before she died she wanted to meet a real hero, someone who was fighting for her day in and day out. I don't remember what type of cancer it was, but I believe it was leukemia like my friend had. I went and I visited her because I felt a little bad for the family, but more so for her, and the hand she'd been dealt in life. I maintained my composure as best as I could through the whole visit, and just talked about what she liked, what my job was, and when I was going to go overseas. She died a month later. Every year I donate some of the very small paycheck I get to leukemia and cancer research, that way I may not have to visit someone who wants to see what they believe is a real hero, or as I look at it, just another gun-toting grunt/mechanic in DCU's. That is my perception, and whatever ya'll think is up to you.