What happened to that woman? She was becoming an ever-distant memory, and I was sad, not for my daughters or my husband, but simply for me, for I realized that I was losing the person who I once was and whom I loved, and this dying woman, this woman who was aging at an accelerated pace, an ugly, ever-thinning creature, was taking her place. As I prepared to die and the invisible wall between me and the living grew thicker and taller, I mourned my own impending death in an ever-shrinking bubble of isolation, loneliness, and darkness.
