I went to a fundraiser to get my uncle a life saving surgery. I saw my uncles, cousins, aunts, my pata, my brother, and my nephew. I sang a Creed song and "The Good Stuff" by Kenny Chesney. I made everyone do he Macarena and the Chicken Dance. My sister, aunt, dad, as well as many other people were crying, so I comforted them. My uncle can
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"Life's not fair". The ironic thing, of course, is that it doesn't even apply three-fouths of the time. "How come Johnny can go to the game, but I can't?" "Because I said so." "That's not fair!" "Life's not fair." Well, 'mommy', that's not life's fault. That's yours. When is life not fair? When you're the only one that gets sick from the flu going around. When a dinosaur comes out of nowhere and you're the only one who's eaten. Or when an upstanding, all-around good guy, who never hurt anyone, and always put others first is stricken with an ailment no one knows anything about, save to give it a name. This is when the bitter side of life rears it's ugly head, and starts chipping away at our ideals and morals. Kate, anything I can offer in terms of solace or comfort or advice....anything, just let me know. I'm truly sorry, and hang in there...good people die hard. Don't count out Uncle Greg, yet. = P
If this'll help any, here's some information on research. Maybe it'll buck you up? http://www.alsa.org/research/stem_cells.cfm
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