“I will live until I die.”

In April of 1996 my mother was operated on for a recurrence of breast cancer that had metastasized to her bones. In the OR, they cut her open, took a look around, and closed her back up. The cancer was everywhere.

In the recovery room, her doctor looking down at her chart told her she had six months to live. My mother grabbed the clipboard from his hands, took a lipstick out of her purse, and wrote in large bright red letters, “I will live until I die.”

 

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