Almost exactly one year ago I found out that my friend Danny, who we all referred to as "Little Danny" (not because of his size, but because his dad is "Big Danny") was diagnosed with Leukemia. It was a roller coaster ride for him at the beginning. It seemed as the doctors didn't know what was wrong with him. One week it was Leukemia, the next something else. I didn't understand why they couldn't get it right. I guess it was because the doctors were stumped...you see the Leukemia started in his liver, which is rarely if at all the case in this type of cancer.
The year was another roller coaster ride for him. The ups and downs, the good and the bad. He spent most of it in the hospital at Dana Farber in Boston, MA. He would get good news and sent home then a few days after he would get sick and have to go back.
How do I know Danny you ask? Well his dad (Big Danny as previously stated) and my dad (Raul) have been best friends since high school. So I grew up with him, his older brother Freddie and younger sister Jen. Danny is my age, just a few months younger than me. So that would mean he was diagnosed around his 32nd birthday.
On Thursday, March 28th the family was given the news from one of his doctors that he was doing good, the stem cell transplant went well and they had taken the stints out of his liver. Good news! And then on Friday March 29th the oncologist called the family with the worst news, the cancer was back and it had spread throughout his body...it was everywhere and he was given 2-3 weeks.
Never in my wildest thoughts did I think he wasn't going to win this battle. It was always in my mind 'he's young, he's strong, he is going to beat this!' Him dying was unimaginable.
He came home that Sunday. He died a week later...April 7, 2013.
I was able to visit with him on the Thursday before he passed. I spent about 20 minutes with him and my brother. And although it was hard to see him lying there, his once strong, muscular self, now weak and thin I was glad for being able to see him one last time. To tell him that I loved him. The last words he said to me was "I love you" back. It comforts me to know that he is no longer suffering, no longer in the immense pain he was in. But I am so deeply sad from the loss of one of my dearest friends. I had dreams throughout my life that him and I would be married. He went with me to my commencement ball at the completion of my college life in 2002. He was the kindest most generous man, with the biggest heart and I miss him so much already. The world is worse off now without him in it.
His passing has hit me hard. Harder than I thought it would. I feel like I'm falling down a deep abyss...I can feel myself not caring about anything. Not wanting to do anything. Not wanting to even watch TV. Just want to sit and stare at the ceiling. Now, a week later I feel a little better, a little. I feel guilty that I am this sad ... this devastated. I think to myself a lot of the time, "we were friends...we weren't dating...we only hung out a few times in the past few years...we didn't talk all that much. We were just friends," who am I to feel this sad?
I want to get a tattoo, a feather that looks like it's writing the letter D. But again the thoughts come to me...who am I? (no i'm not jean val jean!) What gives me the right to get that tattoo?
It just has been a terrible month. The worst month anyone can imagine. On top of his death, his father is in the hospital and at one point wasn't going to make it. My Great-Uncle Al is dying of lung cancer, my Great-Uncle Nick almost died during chemo treatment for lymphoma, and then the Boston Marathon explosions happened. Luckily I didn't know anyone who was injured or lost their life...but it is a terrible tragedy just the same.
Rest in Peace Danny.
-Lindsay
