10 Weeks

That’s it, not 10 weeks and 2 days, 10 weeks give or take 10 years, 10 weeks and 2 minutes…just 10 weeks.

10 weeks.

70 days.

1680 hours.

Thousands of miles, an ocean, and a 6 hour time difference apart. 10 weeks without treatment maybe, just maybe, a year with treatment.

How can a doctor sum it up so simply? Where’s the equation for how long someone has left and why, why am I here instead of there? How do I convince Gran & Grandpa that I should be with them instead of carrying on?

How do I write my weekly letter to them? Do I carry on, ignore the c word, and tell them tales of my exploits and include them in my life that they helped create and will always influence? Do I send the tear stained letter begging them to let me visit? Do I reminisce about the last meals we had together and accept the fact that even though each time I leave them I think it might be my last goodbye that maybe this time it really was?