Magi told me about this. Here's a post about your thing.

My mom died of a breast cancer relapse 5 years ago. She didn't smoke. She was a hiker and had watched her health all her life.

She toughed out a year of chemo that made her miserable and sick and spent it trying not to let us know how miserable and sick she was. Her skin slowly got paler and her hair fell out and her bones ached.

The cancer went into recession. Her hair grew back a little and she went back to work and she started hiking again. She didn't get checked up as often as she could have because she was worried about our financial burden. The cancer came back, and it spread before they found it. She told me just before spring break my junior year, and she spent the next week in a hospital bed in our living room and then she died. She'd been holding it back for weeks for our sake and when she finally let go she was gone in an instant.

Life is random. We all know that on some intellectual level but emotionally it's not easy to accept. Our lives are our stories and we want to see them progress as they should based off of our actions. Unfortunately the world doesn't care about our narrative logic.

What you realize eventually is that you've always been making what you can out of what life gives you. It used to give you lemons, this time it gave you a gigantic pile of shit. But you're still fucking you, so you take the pile of shit and you make shit-aid out of it. You live on your own terms.

Good luck Steel.