Saturday, January 7, 2012
When Pete first contacted me, he was looking for some answers, he wanted any clue that would help him find relief from the pain he was in. Even though he was suffering, his heart would always move to a place far from his own problems. "How can this be happening to you, to Lauren, to any one with small children? It's so unfair" he would say. Although he would always contact me for a specific question regarding his own treatments, he would always end it concerned for everyone else, always with a sense of gratitude for all that he had, for all that he was. Pete would talk often about how grateful he was to have grown children, to have been able to spend time with them, real time towards the end. I often told him and his wife that I wish I had a magic wand. I've never wanted one more badly. I would erase the word angiosarcoma from all of our lives and none of us would know each other. I'd look deep in to the eyes of every stranger I met and smile to myself that there'd be no reason for us to be tied with an inexplicably tight bond that had as an anchor the pain and suffering of this disease. I'd hear the name Pete Pew and he'd be just another human being out in California going about his every day life completely oblivious to the cruelty of this monster. I wish I had that magic wand.