Kirsten died today. She was one of the refractory Hodgers that I looked to and said, "If she can do it, then I can." She was just working out only a couple of months ago and seemed to be her energetic self. She lived in Vancover and couldn't stand the fact that the Olympics were in her town, wreaking havoc on her daily life. She kept telling people to go home. She was very funny.
Kirsten found the Hodge at about the same time I found mine. But she had been through a couple more clinical trials than me in that time. That's basically what killed her. All those treatments, all that poison in your body, it just ruins things in the process of trying to make you better. Her platelets were slammed down by so many treatments that they eventually gave up on her. She went into the hospital and the staff gave her transfusions. By then it was too late. With her platelets so low, the cancer had a chance to really get ahold of her body and it did.
My plan to jump from treatment to treatment is a failure and I know it more and more every day. I now understand what Custer felt like when he took that last dip into the high grasslands of eastern Montana. It's sort of like, "Oh no. What have I done?" Luckily I have more time than Custer. Now, I have heard from some of you that my entries have become more somber. I'm sorry for that. If you don't want to feel that way and I'm making you feel that way, please stop reading this.
My daughter, McKenna, makes bracelets and hair pins out of duck tape. Yes, I spelled it right. Her tape is duck tape and you can find it at Target. It's a cheap rip off of duct tape, the big daddy of any tool chest. The bracelets go for fifty cents and the pins go for one dollar and fifty cents. She is donating all proceeds to cancer research. She'll probably make about six or seven bucks.
McKenna knows. She talks around it every day. It's on her mind and I can tell that she wants to remember us and the moments. I thought she would be the one who can be immune to this. She used to have her own cool, fun world until I came around and ruined it all. I'm really going to miss her when I'm gone. She's the one who is most fascinated with life and because she is, it makes her the most fascinating person in mine.
Her bonehead teacher decided to give the class an assignment to read this story about a kid who's mom died. The kid has this struggle because he is losing memories of his mom as he goes through his life and he is very upset about this. I can't believe that fat slob of a teacher gave my daughter this book to read but he did. He's a fucking moron. Her book report, written in perfect English and exquisite penmanship, talked of her being in a similar situation and I could tell for the first time that my death is on her mind. A rush went through me as I read this book report. What the fuck have I done to my kids?
I'd like to say that McKenna and all my kids can take the place of my hodge heroes. I think they deserve it. I've always admired them. What parent hasn't admired what their kids can do? But it's not quite hero worship. While looking up to them, I'm so damn busy worrying about them at the same time that it just can't qualify. I love my kids. I wish that was enough. One day it won't be enough because I had a stupid plan but it was my only plan and it failed. In the meantime, does anyone want to buy a bracelet?