She only has weeks

Last June my beloved aunt was given weeks to live. At the age of 73, she was diagnosed with a very aggressive form of leukemia. She was now diagnosed with cancer for the 2nd time in her life. Reliving a disease that was ironically was caused by the treatment, aka poison injected into her body, of the very same disease she received 35+ years ago.
After her diagnosis, she received yet another aggressive chemo treatment, and was told it was not successful. The phone rang, it was my mom, her baby sister, letting me know, you have to come to the hospital, I need you.
We all sat in the grim, dismal hospital room, crying, staring, screaming, asking why? Spent several hours wandering, greeting the other hospital visitors who for some reason see our tears as an open invitation to try and share our grief, we know how you feel...Really how the hell did you know that we all feel as if our hearts were ripped out, thrown into a barrel and stomped on like grapes? Rotating chairs in the waiting room, exchanging clomazipan's like they were a bag of skittles.
The most priceless moment was the forgettable visit by the worst social worker I have ever crossed paths with, who initiated the conversation with a cheery "hi" how are you all doing? We're fucking great you imbecile.
We took her home, to die. Days passed, visitors, family, loved ones traveled miles and miles to spend precious moments with her. She had private conversations with all of her closest. Sad, heart wrenching goodbye's. Things were said that you always wanted to say. Her beautiful silver hair began to fall out, her eyes, filled with sadness, her color began to fade, just like her life was about to do as well. She spent every day falling asleep wondering, will I wake up?
I strongly believe she came to terms with her impending death. We did not, because the death of a loved one brings about selfishness. How can I live with out her?
The days, turned into a month, and another month, and now 11 months later, she sits with a smile on her beautiful rosy cheeked face, that says I am alive YOU STUPID BASTARDS.
This came to me today, as my mom called in a panic saying she is so worried, she doesn't sound good. And at that moment, the last 11 months of beauty, daily gratitude, and a closeness that only a near death experience could bring, all I could say in return is she is so lucky, she was given two weeks and 40 weeks later, you just hope that you didn't share some deep dark secret that you only told her...
So I called her up on the phone, and her sweet chipper voice on the other line asked me, how as I doing? Me? So we laughed, caught up on a few tidbits of news and and complained about our ridiculous weather.