the prognosis is understood that it's not very good. but I won't give up if you won't give up. I won't let her see the fear that's inside of me so hide it. put your best face forward. and make sure that she has all that she needs. we stay up late at the hostel. bryan feels it too: "I just don't know what I'll do." a dark cloud hangs over everything we do. with misery around every corner, too. is this the last birthday, christmas, mother's day? the last time I can call and say "hey"? each test we await with bated breath. and we try to stay ahead of death. it's just one step or two. there's only so much a doctor can do. insidious, aggressive. this cancer never stops. this cancer never rests. two-thirds don't make it five years. but the rest of us have it forever and ever and ever. a dark cloud hangs over everything we do. with misery around every corner, too. is this the last birthday, christmas, mother's day? the last time I can call and say "hey"? the prognosis: today's the day. I take your yellowing hand. you say "help me, help me, help me." a tin of ash is all that remains. or a casket buried on some plain. the club grows bigger by the day. lifetimes of good-byes in its wake.