Oh, Gamma, I am so sorry. (I was relieved to read that she died peacefully.) Prayers continue for you and your family, and for the repose of Mrs. G's soul. May she rest in peace and rise in glory.
To just say 'sorry' seems inadequate. But I am. I really am. Your journey has made harrowing reading and yet in some peculiar way we are privileged to have shared it with you. There are some long days ahead yet. I hope you and your daughters hold one another up as you negotiate the new reality.
No words help. Do whatever and whenever you need to. We're all thinking of you in our own ways.
Meanwhile, my sister had a biopsy, the second one. And my employee had a biopsy yesterday. And one of my closest friends just finished another round of chemo.
Day 28 of my drug cycle - a wee dram is in order!
Especially after Dr said that my drug is working fine and when it isn't I will know. (Pain).
He also said he knows women who have been on it for 5 years! (before it stopped working). So I will not have middle of the night worries that something is going on "inside" ... of which I have no knowledge.
I'm finding my new chemo pill tiring, but so far (knock on wood) I have not experienced the dreaded mouth sores. I had to stop using the "magic mouthwash" prescribed to prevent them in the hours before bed, though; I couldn't sleep. Sure enough, that's one of the laundry list of possible side effects.
[bitch] Something else seems to have given in my left hip; I'm back in pain today. The good news is that a much better seat cushion for the wheelchair was delivered yesterday, which helps - but really?!? I just finished two weeks of daily radiation to deal with this stuff; it would be nice if I could enjoy the effects for a little longer. [/bitch]
An Australian I follow on photography sites took his camera into hospital for some treatment in the hope he'd be able to show himself glowing in the dark. He didn't succeed, but he posted the pictures anyway
Actually, I wish I'd arranged for a video of the interesting bits of my brain tumour surgery, for the edification of my teenaged female nieces and cousins. They've had to make do with YouTube highlights of similar operations (not the boring bits - the whole thing takes about 5 hours).
Ah well. At least they think the Scars on my Head (which is kept shaven) are cool....
My brain tumor (being located in the cerebral cortex) was zapped. To accomplish that, a device known as a halo (although it actually hit at about chin level) was affixed to my skull; the radiation went in from many different angles, all hitting the lesion but not getting the same area twice otherwise.
I really wanted to figure out a way to attach some bolt heads to my forehead temporarily, since I had the scars. If only I were still singing at the opera, someone in the makeup department would have figured out how to do it...
Actually, I wish I'd arranged for a video of the interesting bits of my brain tumour surgery, for the edification of my teenaged female nieces and cousins. They've had to make do with YouTube highlights of similar operations (not the boring bits - the whole thing takes about 5 hours).
Ah well. At least they think the Scars on my Head (which is kept shaven) are cool....
DH, who had strong but strange views, refused to shave the other side of his head after his brain tumour surgery, complaining that in winter his head was cold enough with one side shaved. I managed to make him a velvet smoking cap which (although I say it as shouldn't) was much admired.
Haven't posted here for a while. A good friend died a month ago after seventeen years of various cancers. She was 74 and her husband is 81, both incredibly lively people, intellectually and physically. He has taken it very badly, and then made the mistake of going to a bereavement misery sharing session the other day. This was a bad idea and he wasn't ready for it. Tomorrow I'll go for my 6 monthly check-up and will hear again that I am fine and have proved again that you should never pay any attention to survival statistics. My mind is not dealing with the whole thing very well. You can just ignore this waffling.
Thank you, and it did... Once in a while you get to laugh. Discussing some tiresome side effects, the oncologist said, "We could do a scan. It would show your brain, but we wouldn't see anything". Yes, well... His intern cracked up when she heard him and saw my reaction. But yes, things are going well.
Prayers continue to arise for all those suffering due to the fucking awful disease. I have check ups planned for January - I see no reason to assume things have not been successful, but I take GG's warning, from further upthread, to heart.
The best man of one of our sons in law is now in the hospice. His liver cancer has spread to his bones. He is married with two children under ten. Our daughter and husband are grieving. This is the third of their friends to travel this bloody awful path.
I have to find the humor in it, for the sake of my sanity. (I challenge anyone not to find a small giggle in the device and accompanying actions I now have to use to put on my socks.) I would, of course, much prefer to be snarking at something less horrible, but there it is.
I have to find the humor in it, for the sake of my sanity. (I challenge anyone not to find a small giggle in the device and accompanying actions I now have to use to put on my socks.) I would, of course, much prefer to be snarking at something less horrible, but there it is.
Without getting into too much detail, that sounds exactly like my twice daily contortions that led to putting out my back in the worst way in Scotland a few weeks ago, muttering an unending stream of curses as I hiked around Iona and other nice places. Lymphoedema is the booby prize awarded to people who think they've got away with cancer, and it's for life. It is a bastard.
...Lymphoedema is the booby prize awarded to people who think they've got away with cancer, and it's for life. It is a bastard.
That is my understanding. I have, somehow, escaped it, at least so far, but many of my acquaintance suffer terribly with it. I'm sorry you're dealing with it.
Tom (mentioned above) died this morning. My daughter and husband are devastated, as are Tom's wife and family.
I think all of you are amazing in how you cope with living with this disease as an ever present reality.
<votive> for Tom, wife, and family, and the Beakies.
Shite.
ION, the Big C did NOT affect my brain, but the non-Big C tumour did. I now find that I have permanent, irreversible, brain damage, and will have to live with/cope with the resultant disabilities.
TBH, this is a Complete Doddle in comparison with what others on this thread are facing (Rossweisse, I'm looking at you!).
Prayers for all on this thread.
Prayers for the suffering.
Prayers for the loss.
For us.
For others.
Thank you for my understanding of a God who shares that suffering with us.
Thank you for my understanding of this community who shares in our revealed suffering with us.
And cares.
My prayer is that we all may find aspects of joy this Christmas: in laughter, in tears and in living.
My prayer is that we continually find hope.
Comments
Thankfully it was peaceful in the end.
Annie
Rest assured that many of us are upholding you, Mrs GG, and your family in prayer.
Meanwhile, <votives galore> for all still dealing with the Big C and its effects....
Meanwhile, my sister had a biopsy, the second one. And my employee had a biopsy yesterday. And one of my closest friends just finished another round of chemo.
Especially after Dr said that my drug is working fine and when it isn't I will know. (Pain).
He also said he knows women who have been on it for 5 years! (before it stopped working). So I will not have middle of the night worries that something is going on "inside" ... of which I have no knowledge.
I'm finding my new chemo pill tiring, but so far (knock on wood) I have not experienced the dreaded mouth sores. I had to stop using the "magic mouthwash" prescribed to prevent them in the hours before bed, though; I couldn't sleep. Sure enough, that's one of the laundry list of possible side effects.
Prayers continuing to ascend for the GG family.
O what a World of Woe there is in those Words!
[bitch] Something else seems to have given in my left hip; I'm back in pain today. The good news is that a much better seat cushion for the wheelchair was delivered yesterday, which helps - but really?!? I just finished two weeks of daily radiation to deal with this stuff; it would be nice if I could enjoy the effects for a little longer. [/bitch]
It seems only fair.
I hope your hip settles and the chair helps.
<votive> for Rossweisse's hip (and chair).
You have to larf....
Actually, I wish I'd arranged for a video of the interesting bits of my brain tumour surgery, for the edification of my teenaged female nieces and cousins. They've had to make do with YouTube highlights of similar operations (not the boring bits - the whole thing takes about 5 hours).
Ah well. At least they think the Scars on my Head (which is kept shaven) are cool....
I really wanted to figure out a way to attach some bolt heads to my forehead temporarily, since I had the scars. If only I were still singing at the opera, someone in the makeup department would have figured out how to do it...
Thank you, and it did... Once in a while you get to laugh. Discussing some tiresome side effects, the oncologist said, "We could do a scan. It would show your brain, but we wouldn't see anything". Yes, well... His intern cracked up when she heard him and saw my reaction. But yes, things are going well.
I am very sorry to learn about your friends. Nothing sucks like cancer.
Dormouse, I see my oncologist in the morning. Happily, he is not only a top doc, but a real mensch.
That really helps, doesn't it? (If you mean what I think you mean, that is).
The Neuro-oncologist consultant I saw recently (I think she's Jewish-Hungarian or thereabouts) is one of the most attractive ladies I've ever met....
Meanwhile, <votives> for all those who are NOT finding their illness (or that of their loved ones) at all funny.
I think all of you are amazing in how you cope with living with this disease as an ever present reality.
Shite.
ION, the Big C did NOT affect my brain, but the non-Big C tumour did. I now find that I have permanent, irreversible, brain damage, and will have to live with/cope with the resultant disabilities.
TBH, this is a Complete Doddle in comparison with what others on this thread are facing (Rossweisse, I'm looking at you!).
Prayers for the suffering.
Prayers for the loss.
For us.
For others.
Thank you for my understanding of a God who shares that suffering with us.
Thank you for my understanding of this community who shares in our revealed suffering with us.
And cares.
My prayer is that we all may find aspects of joy this Christmas: in laughter, in tears and in living.
My prayer is that we continually find hope.
Fuck you cancer.