Cancer. It feels weird saying it. The words feel like poison in my mouth. Not the same feeling and meaning it had when I had no personal relation to it. I can't explain the change but it happened, and it happened fast and sudden. We knew something was wrong the week before break. Actually we knew something was wrong for a while but he has diabetes and he had other things going on medically the possible symptoms were just so explainable. But his fatigue and drowsiness was definitely unconnected to anything we knew about. So he had needles pricked into him and tests ordered. This happened until they found something. I got the call from my grandma while I was at a friends house. They went to the er because his blood count was low. We later found out he had lost 2 pints or something crazy like that. I stayed with her. In their comforting newly purchased condo. He stayed at the hospital. I went to see him the next morning and then monday came. He was done with the blood they had been pumping into his body which basically meant one less needle. Nothing seemed to be so wrong. He was no different. Acted no different. sounded no different. Nothing seemed to be wrong. He had a upper GI procedure done. I went straight to the hospital after school and saw him before and after. Only after, cancer had a whole new meaning to me. My ears practically ruptured when the doctor rushed through all of the information all because he was behind. Let me tell you it is nothing like they say it is in the TV shows. I mean when is it ever. But I wish it was. I could tell when the doctor was talking, fear was spiraling down grandmas spine and spreading through her body like venom. A mass, the doctor kept saying. A mass, it is here in the stomach. The mass, it is this big. A mass, it is growing slowly. But none the less the mass, it is there. I think I made the best decision to go straight there because my grandma needed me. She whispered to me later that she needed me more than I thought. After he was released from the hospital on tuesday, the doctors were sure he had cancer. A great way to start break right? I was given time to glue myself back together after ‘cancer’ tore me apart. Crying. Sobbing. Every second of the day there was the dark cloud above me raining and I had no umbrella. The struggle now is knowing. The weight. Heavy. Extremely heavy. I wonder why I am telling you this. I think its because I am proud, proud of my family. Happy, happy because they caught it and even though its far along we can start stopping it. Scared, scared because even though we can start stopping it doesn't mean we are going to win. And a thousand other feelings all mixed together. It sucks. Cancer sucks. Right now it all sucks. And the worst of it is that cancer is strong and all we can do is put up a good fight. It sounds so simple, you found it you fight it. You fight it and you treat it. Get it out and be done with it. If only it was really that easy. Poison in my mouth. Mutations in my grandpas body. It sucks. Cancer.