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You drew your bow a few days ago and today yours will accompany you on your last trip.

I hesitated to write this post because we were not friends and we had multiple divergences of points of view. We even had some strong exchanges, in our image, on different subjects. But, in the end, your fight was getting closer to mine. Make change the look on the disease, refuse the pink candy of October, fight for us, for them, for all those we forget, who suffer in silence.

You did not like half-measures, you did not like cowardice, you fought for a just cause even if we had not taken the same path to reach our goal. Moreover, despite our disagreements, neither you nor I cut the bridges, because this bond that united us was stronger! We had more things in common than we wanted to admit to each other. The splendid photos among others that you shared and which are one of my recent passions, the love of writing, the blogosphere we chose to make ourselves heard, and this breast cancer that we did not want devastating, devastating, destructive for us all.

When I learned about your relapse, it hurt. Evil for you of course, bad for your loved ones, bad for all those women who followed your blog. It was completely unreal, a relapse so late, so far from diagnosis, as further proof that breast cancer is not a "nice" cancer, that it is tearing women out of their families, that it is killing again and again! As a last baroud d'honneur to make even more true, more relevant your words, your fight. You, so strong, so upstanding, jesting, militant, writer, you could not let go, you could not leave. You who accompanied so many patients, so convinced of the justice of your war, so present.

I wrote you to tell you how sorry I was, one more message in the swarm of words that you have received. You have probably been surprised, and you answered me by telling me your suffering, your desire to throw in the towel. An answer at the same time imprint of sadness, of despair almost, that you ended with a pirouette as you had the secret. Speaking of the great team of palliative care that accompanied you, you closed the conversation by writing"... Let's just hope that they will continue to be able to curb her maximum in the next few weeks, that I can come to tickle you at least one more times in October 2017 ". But you will not be there to "tickle" me next October and I will regret it terribly.

Today I mourn Helen, and I accompany you by the thought towards your last home. May you light the sky with your words and find peace with our sisters fighting. 
Have a nice trip, my dear!

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