I was watching the evening news tonight. I was busy cooking in the kitchen and my attention changed suddenly from my cooking to the TV during the sports section of the newscast. My eyes went wet. The terrible feeling of that muscular clutching at the throat, that sick feeling every man feels when he doesn’t want to become emotional.
They brought up that they had an update on Luke Laufenberg, son of a former quarterback for the Cowboys. I had been watching his progress with Burkitt’s Lymphoma/Leukemia. One place says Leukemia, one says Lymphoma. I suppose it is all the same, it is just trying to specify where the cancer seemed to concentrate and unleash its hell.
Luke beat Burkitt’s in 2018 and went to University of El Paso (UTEP) to follow in his dad’s footsteps. I was proud of him getting back on the field so quickly in January of 2019.
The sports broadcasters in this area know his dad and got to know Luke. They all visited him in his room during his battle. Some interviewed him to discuss his cancer battle and future hope.
They all commented what a bright fighting spirit he had and how he deeply touched them.
The current update is that Luke relapsed a short while ago and died last night. They commented he went down really fast. Yep. The cancer that I had twice is the same cancer Luke had twice. It is the worlds fastest cancer, doubling in size as quickly as every 24 hours.
Jason Garrett choked up as he spoke about Luke and the loss; the sports casters were trying to hold it together with their voices cracking. I stood there in my kitchen, while salmon croquette patties were cooking, and let the tears roll down my face.
Bastard disease. I hate it more than I can put into responsible words.
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