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I've watched important people in my life wither away and die from cancer. I'm not going to act like for a second that Rush Limbaugh was a person I admired, because he wasn't. But those who are wishing that his death was the most painful final moments sicken and disappoint me.
My former boss and one of my best friends Tim was diagnosed with stage 4 esophageal cancer in March last year. In months I watched it turn a happy, proud man into a shell of his self. He cried, he was afraid of death, he was in pain, he tried to bargain with God for more time.
He passed late last year. Before him was my aunt, a cornerstone in my dad's half of the family. A successful career woman and mother of 5, who didn't smoke a day in her life, got lung cancer. She fought as hard as she could, but eventually passed too.
The one that hurt me the most was my neighbor who became more of a grandfather than my grandfathers ever were. A Korea and Vietnam vet, every day after school I'd spend an hour on his porch listening to stories of life, war, 'the trouble with women' when I was having gf probs.
In 2010 he was diagnosed with lung cancer himself, and they gave him 6 months to live. The old dude managed to hold out until 2014. When he came home from the hospital to die in peace at his home, his daughter asked me to carry him up the steps to his house.
In my arms was a frail man that cancer took everything was, and even in those final moments took his pride. He wanted to walk up those steps himself but didn't have the strength. I sat in that house with him and his daughter until he died later that evening.
So when people are fucking happy that someone died from cancer, yeah I get a little pissed off. I don't care how shitty someone is, I wouldn't wish cancer on my worst fucking enemy.
