noodles
Contributor
Back in high school, my sister had this piece of shit boyfriend that I always hated. He was a total dog who treated her like crap, but it was her "first love", so she was just too naive to and in love to dump his monkey ass. He cheated on her without telling her, and caught HPV from someone. Of course, he passed it on to her. He also got her pregnant, dumped her at 8 months because he wasn't "ready to be a father", has been arrested several times for not paying child support, and is currently whereabouts unknown.
Fast forward ten years. Some of you probably already know where this is going...
My sister has had ongoing problems with ovarian and uterian cysts. She went to the doctor earlier this week with the same appendicitis-type symptoms that have signaled cysts in the past. Except that this time it was far more sinister: cervical cancer.
My poor sister is just 29, and she is going to have to have a hysterectomy. In addition to being highly invasive, it also means onset menopause. She stands a fair chance of requiring chemotherapy.
Words cannot describe what I am feeling right now. In addition to all the fear and sorrow I feel for her, I'm filled with an indescribable rage directed at one Daniel McLaren. For the sake of my fiance and her daughter, I'm glad I don't know where he lives, because I would probably beat him unconscious with a baseball bat. As a matter of fact, I'm not sure I'd be able to stop swinging it until I saw the pavement through his chest. He's not worth going to jail for, but the fact that he is still hurting one of my best friend's in the entire world has me day dreaming of causing him a great deal of pain in return.
I'll be drinking Gentleman Jack straight up tonight. I have about a third of a fifth left, and I aim to kill it.![Frown :( :(](data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7)
Fast forward ten years. Some of you probably already know where this is going...
My sister has had ongoing problems with ovarian and uterian cysts. She went to the doctor earlier this week with the same appendicitis-type symptoms that have signaled cysts in the past. Except that this time it was far more sinister: cervical cancer.
My poor sister is just 29, and she is going to have to have a hysterectomy. In addition to being highly invasive, it also means onset menopause. She stands a fair chance of requiring chemotherapy.
Words cannot describe what I am feeling right now. In addition to all the fear and sorrow I feel for her, I'm filled with an indescribable rage directed at one Daniel McLaren. For the sake of my fiance and her daughter, I'm glad I don't know where he lives, because I would probably beat him unconscious with a baseball bat. As a matter of fact, I'm not sure I'd be able to stop swinging it until I saw the pavement through his chest. He's not worth going to jail for, but the fact that he is still hurting one of my best friend's in the entire world has me day dreaming of causing him a great deal of pain in return.
I'll be drinking Gentleman Jack straight up tonight. I have about a third of a fifth left, and I aim to kill it.