Everything was my fault, if you asked my step father. Even if I had nothing to do with it, it was still my fault. I had your typical preteen needs, and heaven forbid I try to get them met. The screaming fights (that I could clearly hear) were my fault. Being out of green beans (when Mom was responsible for shopping) was my fault.

The best thing I ever did for myself was take off to a run away shelter, then move into my biological dad's house as soon as I was old enough to stand up for myself (and as soon as there was room for me over there).

And like you, Hamster, I lost Mom to cancer and am very proactive about my lungs. If Mom had gone to the docs when the hacking cough first began, she'd have been around many years later. Instead she died in six weeks. (At least it wasn't my fault.) I lost Dad to cancer 9 years ago, so I'm sure it's coming to get me, too. All I can do is screen and pray.