Simply, Anger

On Monday, I checked the blogs of our friend Patricia, aka PJ, like I normally do every few days. I wasn't expecting the news I read. Patricia's leukemia has returned.

Patricia, like Dori, is an AML survivor and one witty, smart chick to boot. Dori and I have never met her. We found her via the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society's blog. We talked to her once on the phone on one of those leisurely Sundays we rarely have anymore. It was an enjoyable call, confirming what we thought of her as we read her blog week after week. She's a classy, sassy, wonderful lady.

We're regulars on her blog, and she visits here often. We're part of that group that includes Ronni and Ann and others. It's a wavelength thing. We're all on the same one. Like Internet family.

After I read PJ's post that she had relapsed, I called Dori to tell her. I might as well have punched Dori in the gut. Physical illness seemed possible, as I listened to her gasp for breath. An hour later, Dori called and just lost it. I understood completely, but I was in a state of numbness that slowly transformed to being pissed. I'm good with words, and those are the best I have.

Work has been insane this week, but I have thought of PJ during my limited free time. I've pondered, like Dori has, "This could be Dori." I know relapse could happen some time. It feels like it's almost happening now. No control, so live with it. That's the reality. PJ, who has seen others she likes and respects relapse, told me she understands how we feel about her relapse. Like we need the comforting. It just pisses me off.

Prayers help. I need to keep saying them, and I hope you join me. I told PJ her army is behind her, and that's part of what I meant.