My grandmother-in-law has lung cancer.  Her doctors misdiagnosed her with TB and were giving her some pretty toxic medications for it, but my father-in-law (also a physician) didn’t agree with their diagnosis.  He had Gramma Rose come down from Beaufort, SC to their hometown in St. Simons Island, GA for further work-up.  Turns out that he was right.  They told her on Monday, and they’re currently working out which drug cocktail will be best for her particular type of cancer.  It doesn’t look good.  Her prognosis is only a few months.  She never smoked a day in her life.

I’m sad about this.  Gramma Rose is very much my Gramma Rose.  I’ve seen more of her in the last 5 years than of my own grandparents.  I love Gramma Rose and I don’t want her to die.  That sounds incredibly simple and selfish of me to say, but there it is.  She’s been a nurse for over 60 years.  Even up till 2 years ago she still worked at the community health clinic, giving education to pregnant women and new mothers.  She was doing this in her 80s, guys.  She’s a world traveler, has had 2 wonderful husbands pre-decease her, has 4 daughters, and a whole bunch of grandchildren, sons-in-law, and grandchildren-in-law who love her.

Chris spoke with her on Monday night and she was upbeat.  She told him that she’s looking forward to seeing us in May.  My mother-in-law and Gramma Rose are planning to fly in to Indy and see Chris and I one last time before we leave for New Zealand.  It’s times like this that I wish we weren’t moving 8,000 miles away.