So I got a call from our local newspaper, and it appears they have come across my blog through this. They want to interview me. So, this gives me another platform to get Robin's story out to the world. I don't miss the irony that I am getting recognition for writing what I never wanted to write, and the one person I wanted to share it all with is gone. Who the hell is writing my story? I always hated tragedies.
Her story is ultimately the story of all women suffering with breast cancer, especially metaplastic breast cancer. I just read that another one of the young women in her Facebook Group is on hospice now. That's too soon. It breaks my heart to see it happening again.
The normal treatments just don't work for MBC. I keep praying that some new ground will be broken, because so many young women run out of options well before they run out of hope. I know Robin did.
I still expect her to text me, or call me, or message me to let me know to come pick her up from the hospital. Then it sinks in all over again. My nights are so empty and I hate going to bed.
I do like it when Logan crawls into bed though. He doesn't want me to be lonely. I love my children, and they are why i'm still pressing on.