You know the expression: If it's not one thing after another, it's the same damn thing, over and over again. The over-and-over part: being on deathwatch, then losing another family member. The damn thing, in this case: Cancer.
It's the way these things go for those who survive: Too many events are suspended in the fog of the surreal. The sequence of events rubberizes and freezes clocks, stretching out and shrinking time. Gravity is too variable, but almost always heavy-handed -- trying to run, or move quickly, makes one feel submerged to the neck in bread pudding.
This deathly period boils it down, right down to bare-bones existence. Life, living, or feeling alive might come later. For now, I am able to merely vote "present."