Now I know where the towel comes from!

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When I was a kid, I heard the phrase "throw in the towel" (American slang for quitting) every once in a while, and I'd think to myself, but where does the towel come from? Then I learned the boxing roots of the phrase, and never thought about it again.... until just now. I forced myself to begin the necessary research into our more exotic options for treating Dot's GBM. Oh, my freakin' goodness, everywhere I look, the news is so fu*kin' bad! Nobody, and I do mean nobody, offers more than 10-12 months survival for her patient profile! Less than 10% at two years! Holy shite! After the third site, I started to cry. I've been crying ever since, and I ran out of tissues, so I got a grubby (but clean) old dishtowel out of the closet. That's when it hit me - I had "picked up the towel"! I guess this is the beginning of acceptance, and it looks like acceptance is gonna be a teary process. Holy shite, does this hurt! It's almost time for me to leave to go hang with Dot while bro is working. I look like shite, my eyes look like those bubble-eyed goldfish from crying, and I'm congested from my chin to the top of my head, so my voice is all messed up, too. Guess I'll take my grubby little towel with me, maybe it's the one that Dot will tell me to throw in when that time comes. Damn - tell you what - it would be a whole lot easier to be a Christian right now! I can appreciate the power and comfort in that part of the beliefs that assure us of seeing our loved ones again. No worries, I'm not converting, but I can see how people are drawn to it. Hugs and grateful thanks to all following this series of discussions, it's really hard to respond to them after I write them. I do read each and every one, more than once, because I share them with Dot. Oh, and I rate 'em, too, what the heck, the + is right there anyway!