Well,,, just got some bad news that my eldest sister of a three-child house (I'm the baby), has been diagnosed with a type of restrictive cardiomyopathy. An apparantly rare heart disease that the doctors believe was caused by a virus. She is about 35.

My sister, has had a rough shake in things. She mis-carried a few children, before finally having my nephew though a hard pregnancy that was a danger to her health. Now, her son is about 2 or 3, and from what I have read on the net, 80% people with restrictive cardiomyopathy live 5 years from diagnosis. Apparantly her only treatment options are a pacemaker, or transplant, and I am not too sure how much life that adds. All treatment is to increase comfort and quality of life, nothing will cure it or fix it.

Although not best friends growing up, we were still always on the same side. She never ratted on me for stealing booze, or other such shit. In my family, we always said that my sister Channon and I were like my father, calm and collected, and my middle sister Sandra was more emotional like my mother.

I'd be lying to say that my concerns are purely selfish. Although I am at a complete loss of what to think about this all, it still stirs up the fear of death in me. Even though my sister's heart problems were caused by a virus, the fatal heart attack my father had 10 years ago when he was 47 has left me fearing that heart-failure will be the death of me as well, almost like an un-avoidable curse. I know it's a stupid thought, and hope it's not a self-fulfilling prophecy.

I pray from time to time when in dispair, but this leaves me not even doing that. Pray for a cure that ain't there, wait for a miracle that doesn't show, beg for health for someone who deserves it by someone who don't.

Either way, I can't waste time letting her, as well as my other loved one's, know what they mean to me, that I am sorry for anything I have ever done to hurt them, and that they matter to me. And they do matter to me, even if I don't always even matter to myself.