I have a family member (well, not biologically but he's been a huge part of my family for 25 years) who is dying of lung cancer. We live just far enough away that we can't see him very often and the pandemic makes things much more difficult since he's immunocompromised anyway and then my mom and I each have risk factors too.

He's happily accepting things that months ago he said he'd never need. He is doing his last round of chemo next week and then will not do more. They are just so hard on him.

It hit me tonight. I was laughing about something from the past that was typical him and realized that there won't be more typical "Mark". There just will be sick Mark and hopefullyi he won't get sicker for a while. In fact hopefully he'll have some improvement once the chemo isn't pounding him every 3 weeks. But the end result is going to be the same.

I'm fighting a panic attack. I actually cried a bit which I pretty much never do without my therapist and I haven't seen him in person since March 2. I try not to cry when my mom might see me; she's having enough to deal with on her own. This is harder for her than anyone. My therapist would say we should share our grief but so far we don't operate that way.

I can't believe that one day sooner than I want I'll have to say goodbye and thanks to this stupid cornovirus it will not be with as many visits and chats as it should be.

Sorry this is long. Having a rough time tonight.