One of my best friends in high school and throughout my twenties went to the emergency room one night with abdominal pain and was pretty much immediately diagnosed with stage 4 advanced colon cancer. It was straight downhill from there. The hospital removed half of his guts and replaced them with a bag to shit in hanging out of his torso. They did what they could, but the fact that they immediately installed a direct line in his neck to shoot Dilaudid in, kinda' gave away the fact that they knew there was absolutely no hope. I know a doctor can't rightfully say, "you're fucked, bro. Here, shoot synthetic heroin directly into your neck for the rest of your severly limited days", but it's kind of what he, and the rest of us took away from that decision. He died in his house six months later, holding his parents hands, and talking to another friend that we lost to a drug overdose/pneumonia a year earlier.

I've never believed in ghosts are spirits, but hearing about my dear friend carrying on a coherent conversation with someone who was long dead in his final moments does make me wonder.

The phenomena of breast cancer being the easiest cancer to support pisses me off to no end. How in the living fuck has MARKETING invaded our charities and concerns? Regardless of mortality rates (colo-rectal cancers kills, on average, about 11,000 more people a year than breast), a box of cereal, public corporation, etc., prefer to support breast cancer because tits are much more relatable and marketable than colons, where the shit comes from. I'm all for support for any sort of disease, and I'm not trying to take away from the importance for breast cancer concern, but I find it sad and embarrassing that we can actually shun the level of support and funding of a particular form of cancer according to whatever body part it's attached to.