Throwing Stones

Farmington, Connecticut

I COULDN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE. THE constant fatigue. The muscle weakness. Needing everyone to care for me. I was supposed to be the strong one. The mother. The woman who helped everyone else. Anger burned inside me. I had to get out of the house. It was a beautiful night. The Farmington River ran nearby—only 300 feet away. It might as well have been miles. What used to take me seconds dragged on for nearly 15 minutes as I walked step by step from my back door. I was exhausted from radiation treatment for lung cancer, and my COPD made it difficult to catch my breath. I felt emotionally and physically spent. Even if I beat cancer, COPD was a life sentence, a disease without a cure.

I collapsed onto the rocky shore. All the resentment that had been building since my diagnosis exploded.