Near the end of a cancer struggle, it’s literally a war zone going off in your body–so many fires blazing out of control, you don’t even know which ones to put out when,

Because any one of them could kill you.

My fathers cancer is back with a vengeance, and he knows he’s losing the war.

After a half hearted attempt in the middle of the night to try and talk him into starting chemo again,

I told him to take the best pain killers they will give him. It gets to a certain point, comfort is the most important thing.

Or at least, whatever comfort is possible…

There is ‘the fight to stay alive’ (where I’m at), the point where we can live through our health problems, as long as we have the necessary (usually expensive) medical care to do it,

but then there’s the point of no return…

The point where the patient gives up,

Or the point where there is literally nothing medicine can do. Of course there’s always miracles, and miracles do happen,

But God has a long list, and something tells me my father isn’t on it…