Our dead are never dead to us, until we have forgotten them. ~ George Eliot
Like many of us in the hepatitis C community, when one of us dies from this virus, it sends a shiver of cold reality through our ranks. I don’t need to know someone well to grieve their death, a characteristic I think the majority of us who have hepatitis C share. All I need to know is that this week a woman named Eva died from hepatitis C. I don’t know if she suffered, but if her death was like the ones I’ve seen before, it was unpleasant.
Death does two things to me. First, it sends me into a spiral—a fast downward spiral of helplessness. Then a loud NOOOOOOOOOO springs forth, ushering in a second response, telling me to get up and get going. Every day, 41 people die in the U.S. from hepatitis C. I am not going to be one of them, and if I can help it, you are not going to be either. We have to bring that number down to zero.
I am up for this fight. Can I count you in too?