I'm just home from another long session at the cancer center. I got some good news from my oncologist: Friday's CT scans showed that my liver tumors have shrunk. (I love the fact that I could see pictures of them before and after.)
Now I just need for the mysterious new spot in my brain to not be cancer. The drug trial I'm on is working, but if the spot is cancer, it will mean that the cancer has progressed, and I'll be kicked out of the trial. I can get the drug, but the first month will cost $13,000, and I can't do that. Prayers appreciated!
Hey, I have to live long enough to see Covid-19 retreat. Given the music I've chosen, I really need to have the full choir available to sing at my funeral.
You've beaten me to it, as I was heading here to say I have no intention of dying until Corona is over. I've been planning my funeral (as I have done for many years) and want a modest, understated affair.
All I want is a church packed to the rafters, displays of grief to make Kim Jong Il jealous, a hearse pulled by black horses with plumes led by weeping children throwing rose petals on the ground, and so forth. Simple really.
You've beaten me to it, as I was heading here to say I have no intention of dying until Corona is over. I've been planning my funeral (as I have done for many years) and want a modest, understated affair.
All I want is a church packed to the rafters, displays of grief to make Kim Jong Il jealous, a hearse pulled by black horses with plumes led by weeping children throwing rose petals on the ground, and so forth. Simple really.
Our Place actually hosted an impressive funeral like that a few years ago, our late organist being the corpse responsible IYSWIM.
We didn't actually have the weeping children, but, had she requested/required such, we would have had no option but to comply (she said before she died that, if we didn't do what she wanted, she would Come Back To Haunt Us, which she would have been quite capable of accomplishing... ).
The Chiefest Undertaker In All The Town did a fine job - again, under the threat of being haunted...
All in all, it was quite a Send-Off, but may yours be long delayed!
Ever since I first had a computer, in the late 80s, I've had a file devoted to my funeral. Every so often I revisit it, and change the details, especially when I have man-flu. That's when I'm convinced I'm dying. Ladies, you have no idea....
So far having man-flu has felt far worse than having cancer. When I have it, I feel as though I am dying, although I'm told I'm not. Cancer, for me, is the other way round.
Oh, a dozen I think. One doesn't want to look cheap, does one?
This morning I was woken by a call from the local hospital, about my barium meal test on Thursday.
Me: I've been hoping to hear from you. Let me get my diary.
Them: No need, it's been cancelled.
Which is what I was expecting, and it isn't an issue at all. But this is a good place to get little whinges off my chest as the cats can't be bothered.
I continue to send up my prayers for everyone affected by cancer. It DOES suck!
I've finally healed from my last surgery (I believe) but did end up with an infection. Not a surprise. I was prescribed a different antibiotic this time as they try to shuffle them around so I don't develop an immunity to one. That's how I found out I was allergic to Sulfa related antibiotics. Terrible full-body rash. This time it was from a penicillin family and I've never had a problem with penicillin. This time I did. I had an anaphylactic reaction which made my physician shoot me with an Epi-Pen and send me off to the hospital for a day of shots and IV to stop the swelling in my head so I could continue to breathe. The first day of new lock-down rules in our area due to Covid-19, of course. I have to say that all the medical personnel were wonderful and the care was terrific. Now, alas, I have a new paranoid fear to handle, but I've got my own brand new Epi-Pen to handle it with! And if this emergency situation ever clears I'll have an appointment with an allergist. Wonder of wonders!
I've been avoiding this thread for a while. We now have three friends with late stage cancers, two of them with a breathtakingly sudden diagnosis; one more in my peer mentor group. No hospital visiting allowed now, so I can't see my closest friend who is fighting the side-effects of chemical warfare. What to do but praying and cursing? Being a survivor is wonderful, but right now it makes me feel like the ship's monkey.
I heard today that a former crewmate (S) has ovarian and stomach cancer, whilst her husband (C) also has some form of cancer (terminal, but I don't know what form).
Husband and wife are both in their late 60s. They have daughters and grandchildren, so are not entirely without help and support, but these are difficult times for all the family, of course.
My brother P’s wife, A, died from cancer this morning. I won’t be able to visit to offer support or attend the funeral, due to Covid restrictions.
I feel very sorry for everyone else who is struggling with this horrible disease, and compassion for all those isolated from family when they most need each other.
As for me, during my permitted exercise today I am going to wander into a country lane and FUCKING SCREAM.
This belongs in several different threads, but is hellish enough for here. My friend A was sent home from the hospital yesterday when they decided he had recovered sufficiently from the toxic reaction to the chemo (same trick that I worked, oddly enough). Once he was home and comfortable, his son was finally able to tell him today that he had been diagnosed with Covid19 a week ago. Now he has to work on getting his strength back to resume radiotherapy as soon as possible. This is hell.
For those affected by cancer and other diseases, you are not forgotten in the noise of Covid.
My ongoing prayers, my concern and my cursing and railing against the injustice, is only one small voice among so many.
For those affected by cancer and other diseases, you are not forgotten in the noise of Covid.
My ongoing prayers, my concern and my cursing and railing against the injustice, is only one small voice among so many.
Comments
Now I just need for the mysterious new spot in my brain to not be cancer. The drug trial I'm on is working, but if the spot is cancer, it will mean that the cancer has progressed, and I'll be kicked out of the trial. I can get the drug, but the first month will cost $13,000, and I can't do that. Prayers appreciated!
Unlikely to have such an improvement at the same time as a new tumor popping up, surely.
((5thMary))
For all posting here.
You've beaten me to it, as I was heading here to say I have no intention of dying until Corona is over. I've been planning my funeral (as I have done for many years) and want a modest, understated affair.
All I want is a church packed to the rafters, displays of grief to make Kim Jong Il jealous, a hearse pulled by black horses with plumes led by weeping children throwing rose petals on the ground, and so forth. Simple really.
Our Place actually hosted an impressive funeral like that a few years ago, our late organist being the corpse responsible IYSWIM.
We didn't actually have the weeping children, but, had she requested/required such, we would have had no option but to comply (she said before she died that, if we didn't do what she wanted, she would Come Back To Haunt Us, which she would have been quite capable of accomplishing... ).
The Chiefest Undertaker In All The Town did a fine job - again, under the threat of being haunted...
All in all, it was quite a Send-Off, but may yours be long delayed!
You big wuss!
Seriously though, I hope it's a very long way away.
Six or eight black horses?
Oh, a dozen I think. One doesn't want to look cheap, does one?
This morning I was woken by a call from the local hospital, about my barium meal test on Thursday.
Me: I've been hoping to hear from you. Let me get my diary.
Them: No need, it's been cancelled.
Which is what I was expecting, and it isn't an issue at all. But this is a good place to get little whinges off my chest as the cats can't be bothered.
I've finally healed from my last surgery (I believe) but did end up with an infection. Not a surprise. I was prescribed a different antibiotic this time as they try to shuffle them around so I don't develop an immunity to one. That's how I found out I was allergic to Sulfa related antibiotics. Terrible full-body rash. This time it was from a penicillin family and I've never had a problem with penicillin. This time I did. I had an anaphylactic reaction which made my physician shoot me with an Epi-Pen and send me off to the hospital for a day of shots and IV to stop the swelling in my head so I could continue to breathe. The first day of new lock-down rules in our area due to Covid-19, of course. I have to say that all the medical personnel were wonderful and the care was terrific. Now, alas, I have a new paranoid fear to handle, but I've got my own brand new Epi-Pen to handle it with! And if this emergency situation ever clears I'll have an appointment with an allergist. Wonder of wonders!
Blessings to all. God is truly good!
Husband and wife are both in their late 60s. They have daughters and grandchildren, so are not entirely without help and support, but these are difficult times for all the family, of course.
Fuck fuck fucketty fuck...
<votive> For S and C
<votive> For all dealing with this monstrous disease
I feel very sorry for everyone else who is struggling with this horrible disease, and compassion for all those isolated from family when they most need each other.
As for me, during my permitted exercise today I am going to wander into a country lane and FUCKING SCREAM.
Praying for you and your brother and all your family.
Screaming is good - better OUT than IN!
Prayers for all who post on this thread.
For those affected by cancer and other diseases, you are not forgotten in the noise of Covid.
My ongoing prayers, my concern and my cursing and railing against the injustice, is only one small voice among so many.
You still matter.
We still care.
I still care.
Fuck cancer.
You're great!