The Crap of it All

The crap of it all…

Let’s get the crap out of the way first.  I feel like $#!+… What in the world have I ever done to bring this wrath of the universe upon myself?  Oh, yeah… birth.  If we plan our lives before we are born like some people and books have suggested… were we in our right mind when we did so?  Life has so many beautiful moments… and several thousand pounds of crap.  Does all the manure we wade through without galoshes somehow enlighten our soul?  Well… my answer might surprise you.  I do believe that it is all the crap we endure throughout our lives that helps to make us… a better human being… to bring elightenment to our souls.  It all boils down to how we handle all that crap.

Have you ever spent a day in a room where chemotherapy is being administered to a large group of people attempting to survive various forms of cancer?  Have you lived with or been close to someone who is dealing with serious side effects of radiation therapy?  Have you lingered in the waiting room with those just trying to find a way to still be here tomorrow?  If you have, then you have seen their lights shining.  I have met some very personable, caring, compassionate souls along my journey through cancer… some of them patients… some of them the people who care about those patients… some of them those taking care of those patients.  They cast a beautiful light into the world and eagerly share that light with others who are wandering in the darkness.  When you see them… don’t just pass them by… take just a moment to let them know that you care.  You’ll be surprised how many candles you may light along the way… and in return… brighten your own light.

Okay… the update… I have completed twelve sessions of radiation.  Much of my “innards” feel burned.  The cough has worsened but the tightness of that cough is not quite as bad.  The infection… well… it seems to be lingering a bit.  I feel a tiny bit better but still running fever mostly from early afternoon throughout the evening… with a very low grade in the early morning.  The doc is not sure why it goes up around the same time of day… every day.  As for changing antibiotics… she wants me to finish the one I am taking and then we will determine whether to extend this antibiotic or change to another.  I have three doses remaining so that will be determined on Monday… Maybe.

The skin on the back is well sunburned but not too sore as yet.  When I swallow… the esophagus feels as though something is scraping against raw tissue.  I suppose it feels that way because… it ‘is’ that way.  When I try to eat… I get an unusual pain that shoots from the stomach up into the esophagus to about mid chest level.  I haven’t ever experienced this type of pain in that area so I’m not sure why it is happening… but I am certain that it is radiation related.  It’s a hard pain… like a heart attack… but in a different location.  Luckily… it only lasts seconds at a time… but happens several times during each meal… no matter what I am eating.

I am somewhat dehydrated.  I’m drinking lots of liquids… mostly water and those drinks that replenish electrolytes.  I don’t like the taste, but they do seem to help the situation… so I’ll drink them.

I’m looking forward to the two days off from the zapper.  Last weekend was not pleasant due to various reasons, so I am hopeful for a better weekend this time around.


I think I am just going to join Miracle relaxing on a beautiful September morn on the sunporch and relax… ponder philosophically about life and love… and drink… ummm… responsibly of course.

Wishing you a most beautiful weekend as well…



A New Surprize…

As it seems to be of normality for me… there has been a bit of a technicality thrown into the fire that surrounds me.  A new surprize.  An infection.  Apparently a serious one. 

Yesterday’s treatment went okay… with one exception.  The doc didn’t like the unusual sound coming from me when I coughed… the fact that I was running fever… and the swollen lymph nodes in my neck, under my chin and jaw… and on each side of the chest.  She said I had an infection that was restricting my air ways.  When I asked… which you would think by now that I would have known better than to ask… what kind of infection?  She rattled off… most likely… “Methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus”.  Huh?  Well doc… that sounds kind of serious, I stated.  She said that it ‘is’ serious because this type of infection is immune to many of the regular antibiotics.  I asked if it was caused by the radiation therapy.  She replied that in a sense it was… but not directly.  It seems that those of us with cancer and undergoing treatment are victims of a compromised immune system… (which I was well aware of having already from previous crap) making us vulnerable to infections such as these.  The risk of this infection is highest in individuals with chronic lung disease.  Well… that’s me.  I only have one lung and a small piece of the other that function at all.

So what do we do?  Antibiotics.  I started them yesterday.  I also Googled affective antibiotics for Methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus (of course he did)… and found that the antibiotic prescribed is not particularly affective… yet other antibiotics of the same type… are a bit more affective. 

So what do I do?  Do I say… “Hey doc… that antibiotic you gave me to attempt to get rid of Methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus isn’t affective.”  Hmmm… that doesn’t really sound like a good idea.  I like this doctor… we have been through a lot together and she has done a rather miraculous job saving my ass.  She knows I google everything… so surely she would naturally expect me to come home and look up the information to see if the prescribed antibiotic was affective for this supposed infection. 

I’m in another dilemma… what to do or how to go about doing it without sounding like Mr. Know it All… questioning her professional opinion.  I would appreciate any and all ideas of how to approach this with a doctor that I truly want on my side… one that I have placed my full trust in and respect her opinions.  That’s a rare thing for me with doctors.  No offense to the medical professionals that do attempt to always do what is best for the patient.

Help… Please!

The last few days have been the very worst of this ordeal so far.  I feel like $#!+.  But one thing is for sure… it can’t take my attitude down the drain with it… as I cough myself purple.  I like purple… it just doesn’t always look good on one’s face.

I’m beginning to gather a lot of entries into this journal, so I don’t always remember what I have mentioned and what I have not. I may have mentioned in a previous post about the crinkling sound in my ear.  Here is a bit of further information.  

I found something to be incredibly interesting to me that came from my dear doctor after she did some research on one of my questions.  I asked her about the rattle in my right ear.  The sound is like crinkling plastic wrappers in my ear with every inhale and exhale.  Yes… every breath… both in and out.  It is very annoying.  It doesn’t hurt… just drives me a bit crazier than I already am.  My first thought was that it had something to do with a damaged ear drum… so of course… I started my own Google research investigation.  I read that a sound like that with both inhale and exhale can be related to lung disease.  Okay… that makes sense considering a large portion of my lung is suffering from radiation fibrosis and has collapse both the lower lobe and most of the middle section of the right lung.  I asked the doc if she had ever heard of that.  Of course… I got one of those looks… with a response that no… she had never heard of that.  Then she indicated that she would do some research on it for me and see what she could find out.  Yesterday… she shared what she had found with me.  She said that from her investigation of everything she could find on the subject… that the constant crinkling sound in my ear was actually… me hearing my ‘lung’ crackle.  Wow… that was profound.  I can hear my own lung crackle without even a stethoscope.  If it weren’t so annoying… it would be really cool.  Well… except for the fact that it is not necessarily a good thing that my lung is crackling like that.  That’s definitely a bad thing. 

I realize that this information may not fall within the interest of most of my readers, but I found it to be most enlightening.  The mystery of “why” it is crackling has been solved.  Knowing why it crackles however, hasn’t made it any less annoying.  At least maybe I have a good excuse for being nuts.

Isn’t it interesting how we interact with people about our health?  With severe heart disease, cancer in the fourth and fifth place… severe infection… those who pass me by… strangers… neighbors… acquaintances… that inquire… “How are you?”  I most always respond with “Fine… How are you?”  I mean… really… who truly means for you answer that question in detail anyway?  Maybe the world would be a bit different if people asked of another… those types of questions and actually… wanted to know… caringly… compassionately… How are You?

I suppose I can’t change the world… but that probably won’t stop me from trying.  When I ask you “How are you?”… I truly want to know… how you are. 

Okay… I know folks don’t like to read long posts so I’ll shut up… even though it’s not really my nature to do so in these posts.

Say hello to my newest friend… Isn’t she amazing?

Butterfly 4

Have a most beautiful day!



How to Know when You’ve Been Fried

Question:  How to know when you’ve been fried

Answer:  When you’ve had nothing for breakfast…  And burp bacon…

I know… that’s a strange way to start a post to this journal… but it is true. 

Perhaps there is more of a link than we realize between humans and pigs.  Perhaps the cannibals were right… humans taste like pork.  Perhaps… one who has been fried and still alive can verify that claim… by burping bacon.  Oh… come on… laugh… it’s funny.  After all, they take the valves from pigs’ hearts and place them into human hearts and save our human lives.

Some of us are even born with pig snouts… and still adorable…

Baby with pig nose   Pig nose 1

Come on now… where’s that sense of humor?  Trust me… sometimes I know exactly how hard it is to find that sense of humor… like every morning when I voluntarily go to the clinic and jump into the frying pan.  Kind of reminds me of that old song… “What Kind of Fool am I”…

Okay… enough of this rather… ummm… un-normal humor.  On with the update. 

This morning I will be receiving my sixth treatment.  They are zapping me quite strongly this time but I don’t meet with the doc until Friday (maybe) so I’m not sure why.  She originally said that we would take it slowly to keep down the collateral damage.  However, that damage has already started, though most reports state that they normally don’t start for a couple of weeks of treatment.  I know… I’m weird.  The same thing happened the first time around on the neck and throat. 

Perhaps I am getting the negative benefits so quickly because my system was so badly damaged from the first two rounds of treatments and the fact that I started this procedure in a much weaker state than before.

This is my experience so far…

One of the worst effects so far is the swelling of the lymph nodes in the neck and beneath the jaw… from the tender areas beneath the chin and radiating out both directions to the end of the jaw bone beneath the ears.  The lymphs in the neck have been somewhat painful since radiation treatment of cancer in that area in 2014.  They have worsened since beginning this treatment.   It is very painful and I can’t sleep in my usual positions because it puts pressure on that area and causes too much pain.  I try to sleep sitting straight up, but as most of you know… that ain’t always easy.  It really didn’t make much sense to me until I considered the fact that they are radiating the lymph nodes in other areas and… well… they’re all rather connected.  If they are clogged up or swollen in one are, they are likely to cause similar problems in other areas.

The other worst effect is a terrible cough that is hard, dry and persistent.  I did have a cough before going for treatment, but two nights ago, the cough suddenly worsened and changed completely in sound.  That one’s hard to explain with words.  The cough hurts the chest area and sends a severe burning feeling into the larynx… probably because it was also damaged from previous radiation and because it is once again receiving part of the current zapping.

The larynx has pain all the time.  The burning pain from coughing just makes it much worse.

The esophagus evidently has swollen a bit because it is a little harder to swallow food.  Everything seems to catch in the throat near the larynx.  It may be that the larynx is actually what is swollen and causing that to happen instead.

My voice comes and goes.  One minute I can talk fine and the next I can hardly talk at all.  I choke and cough if I say anything in even a slightly louder than normal voice.  I cannot laugh for the same reason… choking and coughing.  I like to laugh.  I’m kind of sad about that one.

The persistent pain in the mid-section, just beneath the bottom of the sternum has worsened, but only slightly so far.

I have a bit of trouble functioning early in the morning which is usually my best time of day.  After being up for a while I improve.  Mid-morning seems to be my best time of day at this moment.  Early afternoon I begin getting tired.  Early evening I start falling apart and by bed time… well… I really don’t have a choice but to go “crawl” into the bed.

There you have it.  The five day radiation update.

I hope I didn’t offend anyone with the cannibals and the reference to pigs.  My best recommendation is this…

Don’t visit areas that may have cannibals living nearby… if you burp bacon.

More updates after the visit with the Doc…




Radiation 4

The first treatment went well although it did cause some shortness of breath for a while afterward.  That evening I was very tired.  I hate to make confessions this early in the post, but I must tell you that I count.  Yes… I count the period of time I am radiated at each position.  They are radiating from seven different angles.  On Thursday, each segment was for a period of approximately 10-12 seconds.  On Friday, each segment was for a period of approximately 19-20 seconds with one angle being the length of 24 seconds.  It burned.  I could feel all of them burning on Friday, but the 24 second one, which is at an angle of about 33 degrees (thought you would enjoy that coincident) shooting from the left side/back area up through right of center… of the chest… was the worst…. Ouch!  I could smell it too.  They say it is painless and if you tell them that you can smell yourself burning… well… you must be an alien.

Friday afternoon was spent in my favorite chair… watching Hurricane Irma on the TV spin toward Florida with the mute on… with an 18 pound black and white cat laying on my chest.  He always knows when I don’t feel well and to be honest… it is a bit comforting.  The pressure and the vibration from his purring seem to actually help.  I’ve had a few chills without fever which is rather normal for me while undergoing these treatments.  I get very cold periodically without reason.  It’s warm here… I’m cold.  I go out on the porch and stand in the sun shining through the glass to warm up.  It works… until nightfall.

I did experience some discomfort last night along with the weakness and for some unknown reason there was some pain in the throat and glands surrounding the throat area, although that is not an area of treatment this time.  I also had a bit of nausea. (I hate that crap).   I also had a severe coughing spell from two a.m. till nearly 3.  This morning I am weaker than my normal with pain radiating from upper mid-chest around the ribs to the mid-back.  At least that pain is where it should be… in the treated area.  I’ve also had several severe coughing spells.  I’m imagining that the pain is just the tumors croaking, withering away, passing into extinction.     

While I count the seconds of duration of radiation, I always picture the cancer cells being destroyed… like tiny nuclear blasts blowing them to smithereens… whatever a ‘smithereen’ is.  Isn’t it odd what one does for entertainment while undergoing medical procedures?  I’ve tried meditation during the event, but the sound of the machine moving around into different positions and the buzzing of the zapper tends to prevent any form of success in clearing the mind.  So I count.  Of course, I always seem to have a coughing spell at the most critical of times and the techs have to re-position me on the table.  I always feel badly about it, but after all, I do have a collapsed lung and cancer in areas that affect the lung and the bronchi… chances are… I’m gonna cough.

It seems a bit odd with all the mental anguish that I have wandered through over the past few days and weeks… but my spirits are high and hope is surrounding me in more directions than I can count.  Perhaps it is all of those who are sending me their prayers, their love, their light… their healing energies… I can never express it enough that it is those very things that brings healing to one’s mind… to one’s physical being… to one’s soul.  How can I ever thank all of you for what you have so unselfishly given of yourself?  To many of you, I am but a stranger on a journey that has somehow crossed your path… and instead of passing me by… you have reached out your hand and offered to me your love.  I am both honored and humbled by your compassion. 

I’m looking forward to a peaceful and restful weekend so that I’ll be ready to face the week ahead, the first full week of treatment.  My mind set is good in this moment and hopefully it will remain there.  (I am getting a bit irritated with the constant cough, however).  Knowing the odds are against me, just inspires me… for some unknown reason.  Having an idea that the odds of survival are so very low, just gives me more reason to beat those odds. 

Someday… I will become a statistic.  Unless of course, they label me as ‘odd’… ‘un-normal’… not fitting into any category… kind of like my personality.  My hope, of course, is that I am one of those rare statistics that tells the story of survival against insurmountable odds.  After all… not counting three different types of skin cancer I have previously endured, I am now battling numbers four and five of different cancer locations inside the body.  Given nine to twelve months to live with the neck and throat, six to nine months with the lung… and now with hilar and subcarinal tumors I have not been given a time frame… only that the survival rate is five to eight percent. 

After all is said and done, how could I think that I could not beat the odds this time?  Of course I can.  I have all of you lifting me over the trenches.  I know that there will be some of those trenches that are very deep between now and the next several months… and there will be times when I am feeling very badly, overwhelmed and discouraged… but I am determined to make that post in the spring of 2018 that tells you… We did it!

Until next week… I hope you all enjoy a most beautiful, happy, and healthy (unless you’re having too much fun to even consider the health thing)… weekend.



The Answers

The Answers…
             as presented by your local physician.

Let me preface the following with the fact that my radiology oncologist is a very nice lady.  I mean that sincerely.  I think she might do just about anything possible to help someone out.  I have complete confidence in her due to the association we have already had together with past cancer treatments.

Now… with that said… I asked my set of questions… of course in my usual “un-normal” fashion with the hope of receiving the honest and complete facts from information that was available to her.  She answered… not in the manner I expected… not the answers I expected… actually it seemed as though she was giving me long and detailed answers to someone else’s questions.  As some of you might have already expected… I’m a bit more confused than I was before I asked them.

First question:

I told her of my concern about the severity of the cancer considering the location of the two tumors.  I gave her some information that I had obtained from the wonderful source of Google from studies done by reputable organizations.  She neither confirmed nor denied the facts of that study that the survival rate of these cancers was 5 to 8 percent.  She said my case was unusual.  I had a unique set of circumstances that prevented me from being placed into a specific category of individuals so it would be impossible to associate those statistics with the odds of survival for my particular set of circumstances.

Good answer Doc.  I think.  In a way… it actually does answer my question.  The odds stink.  I want at least double digits.  From her response, it seems that my odds could actually be worse than those of the research groups.  I’ll assume however… the opposite.

Second question:

Radiation therapy to the areas of concern can cause very serious collateral damage.  Is there any way to prevent it?  Her response was that they had calculated the trajectories and procedures on my treatment to avoid as much damage to neighboring tissue and organs as possible… but of course… there were no guarantees.

Third question:

My VA primary care physician didn’t like my low vitamin D level while currently taking 50,000 units a week so he doubled the prescription to 100,000 units.  I told her I was a bit leery of taking that much Vitamin D and would like her input on the subject.  She explained that there was obviously some problem with my absorption of certain vitamins and doubling the amount would most likely not result in much difference of what my system could retain.  She said that she didn’t want to tell me not to take the double dose since my primary physician advised me to do so… but that was a lot of Vitamin D.  I’ve opted not to double the dose.

Next question:

Doc… will I still be around in six months?  Doc’s answer, “No.  Because I’m going to run over you in the parking lot so you can’t ask me anymore questions.”  OKAY… I’M JUST KIDDING HERE.  She didn’t say that… I would never ask that specific question anyway because I don’t think patients should be told those things.  I do believe that it can sometimes cause a person to just give up and we all know that I’m not about to do that, no matter the circumstances I face.

So… here’s the story.  Intense radiation therapy every day for the next six weeks.  What?  Are you kidding me?  Every %#&$#%# day?  If karma is real… I must have been very, very bad.  I’m going to be badly burned.  I have my Aloe Vera gel ready for the burned skin.  For the burned innards… well… I’ll have a very large vision of hope.

I want to add something here that I have pondered a bit with reservations as to whether I should comment about in this ‘public’ journal.  What I want to say is to suggest that everyone be very cautious when making contributions to nonprofit organizations.  I can’t speak for all nonprofits, but I have had experience with cancer nonprofits on the federal and local level.  They put on a good show and tell some sad tales in order to get your money… I have found that they actually help… very few of those who really need the help.  I’ve contacted all the federal cancer nonprofits, only to be told that they can’t help people with my type of cancer or because of where I live.  Are you kidding me?  I’ve now had five types of cancer… and they can’t help because I don’t have the right kind of cancer?

The local nonprofit in my town has a ridiculously beautiful building where the cost of the furnishings alone could have paid for hundreds if not thousands of less fortunate cancer patient treatments.  In my first experience with cancer I had hope of benefiting in some way from the cancer center… I was given a great deal of hope… they were going to help me with the copay on my treaments… with covering my utility bills… repairs to my home… only to find that they were all just empty promises.  As a result, the total benefits I received from the cancer house was six bottles of Boost.  By the way… those six bottle of Boost were donated by an individual… they did not even come from the budget of the cancer house.  There are many well to do individuals in this town that turn out for the fund raisers, many of whom are there to flaunt their name and image, while nearly all the funds raised go to the salaries, maintenance and building budgets.  Welcome to the real world of nonprofits.  I was however… very thankful for my six bottles of Boost.  I was very weak from treatments and I truly needed them at that time.

If there is someone you care about that has cancer and is struggling with medical bills or utility bills or weakness or taking care of daily things like housework… don’t count on your cancer nonprofits to ever lift a hand or to give any assistance with utility bills or yard care or housework or for heaven’s sake to ever help with cancer treatment bills or medication.  If you care about them… offer them your “own” hand.  Sometimes just a little time of caring and understanding goes a very long way with someone who is suffering for whatever reason.  What in the world are we here for if we can’t show our compassion for another… if we can’t reach out for someone who is ill or sad or hurting… and offer to them a moment of ourselves.



The Day Before

The Day Before

The Day Before

Tomorrow is when I go for a consultation with the doctor… only because I requested one… it was not scheduled.  I am also scheduled to be on the table for a rather long period of time, arms up, hands over head… (difficult for me to do for long periods)… for programming the zapper… then… perhaps, even the first treatment of radiation.  I don’t want to go to any part of that appointment.  Not even the consultation.  I want my questioned answered… but I don’t really want to ask them in a one on one situation.  I don’t know why I feel that way.  I’m sure that I will go… I always keep the appointments I make and I’m never late for those appointments… but for some reason… I’d love to cancel it and think about all of this for a bit longer.  Of course, I know that the longer I procrastinate, the bigger the tumors become.

What’s wrong with my thinking here?  I know this is not normal thinking for me.  I thought the first bout with cancer was bad because it was in the lymph nodes of the neck and at the base of the tongue and the doctors had no idea of the primary source.  They all indicated that the two infected areas were not the primary source.  It has never been determined.  The second bout was even more serious with the tumor in the lower lobe of the lung.  I was told that this round was much worse than the first.  I survived all of those episodes, although I have suffered a considerable amount of serious side effects from the radiation therapy that kept me alive.  This time… the two areas of concern are even more serious than any of the others.  To be very honest here… (I know some of you don’t like it when that happens… so stop reading here if you feel that way)… honestly… from my investigation of research and facts available to the un-professionals like myself… this cancer is virtually terminal… and if this cancer doesn’t do you in… the consequences of the radiation in these two areas… probably will.  I could be… and hope that I am… one hundred percent wrong.  Maybe the doc will give me at least some peace of mind and tell me that I’m completely full of shit.  That… I could easily accept. 

I confess, I have not completely rationalized all of that.  I doubt that I ever will completely understand or be willing to just except those probabilities.  I think what has bothered me the most… is that the doctor has not even discussed this with me.  Maybe she handles so many patients with such serious illness that this is more ordinary for her than not.  I want to hear the facts, the probabilities, the possibilities… directly from the horse’s mouth.  Sorry… I didn’t mean to refer to my doctor as a horse.  For nearly four years, I have thought that she is terrific at what she does… I still feel that way… I just… want… to know.

Friday, Saturday and part of Sunday I was very ill.  I have no explanation or diagnosis.  I don’t know if the symptoms originated with the cancer, the collapsed lung, the heart, or something completely unrelated.  What I do know is that I was very ill.  Part of Sunday and today I have been better, although yesterday morning some of the symptoms had returned.  Last night I woke twice unable to breath for a short period.  It was scary.  It took quite some time to recover my breath with both occasions.  This morning I am very weak, which is starting to take its own toll on me.  Other than the weakness, I am better in this moment and very hopeful that the ‘better’ continues to improve. 

I am gathering my questions carefully.  I don’t want to leave the doctor’s office tomorrow still wondering… with unanswered questions left lingering in my mind.  I’m sure it has happened to most of you… driving home from the doctor’s office thinking… Why didn’t I ask her that?  Sometimes we have to do that thing I like to do so much… “Ponder”… on what they tell us for a while, before we can even form the right questions to ask.

So, tomorrow I am taking all of your prayers, your warm hugs, your healing energies, your well wishes, and your beautiful lights along with me.  It will be crowded in the waiting room and on the table with all of you there, but the staff will just have to adjust to the circumstances… and I will thank you now for sending a part of you along with me.  Love definitely heals.

I hope you all have a most beautiful day…



A Marked Man

Yesterday morning I went for the alignment CT.  It usually is a quick process.  This time, I had a few coughing spells while lying flat on my back, so they had to do the alignment a couple of times.  I was there for about an hour as opposed to the “takes about 5 minutes” time frame I was given.  I am now… not so proudly tattooed with three black crosses once again… adorning my chest and both sides of the ribs.  I asked questions and got… well… vague answers.  I didn’t hear any real answers to even one of my questions.  I still don’t know exactly what they are aligning with the crosses because they are at a lower position on the chest than what I have determined is the position of the tumors.

The next appointment is scheduled for mid-week.  It will be to program all the settings into the machine so that it will zap me in the tumors.  Hmm… that sounded kind of funny.  As already noted, precision of the calculations and trajectories of lines of radiation for tumors in these positions… is critical.  I guess patients are at the mercy of those who determine those very calculations.  I wish they could include the patients in these events… at least those who are curious enough and ones who understand physics.  Trust… I suppose is what we must find in those professionals because it is our very lives that lie within their hands.

After returning home, I called the doc’s office to see if I could meet with her before any treatments are done.  I have a shit load of questions that have come to mind since I was diagnosed.  (don’t worry…. I didn’t say “shit load” to the kind lady that answered the phone.)  They told me to come in 45 minutes prior to the appointment they set up for programming and possibly the first treatment and they’d make sure I saw the doc.  That doesn’t give me much time between the conversation and the treatment to ponder the answers that I may or may not receive.  Everyone seems to “assume” that I am going to go through with this therapy… but I am still quite undecided.  The possible ill effects of therapy on this area could quite likely cause a more painful way to fly out of this world than what the cancer itself would present.  Wow… did I just say that?  That’s a pretty absurd way of looking at things.  Sorry if that comment bothered anyone… but obviously… I do post my true emotional state these days.

Isn’t it odd the way our thinking can change depending on what circumstances dance their way before us?  If you are thinking that I have lost hope…. well… No… I have not.  I’ve survived too many things that I should not have survived to throw in the towel on two glowing objects inside me that measure only 29mm’s each.  No, I’m not delusional either… at least not yet… I do realize that 29mm is quite large considering the location.  Read my last post… I’m not delusional.

My Hope33 site may not have many followers… but those who wander here have shared a tremendous amount of love, of hope, of encouragement, of enlightenment, of compassion and of empathy.  I am very blessed in many, many ways and I thank every one of you with all my heart.

They’ll be more to report around the middle of next week.  Thank you so very much for dropping by… and for caring.

Every one… including myself… should always remember… No matter how high… nor how hard the challenge… there will most often be a branch to grab on to… or a hand reaching out for us.  We just have to open our eyes and be willing to pull ourselves up.

Tree 2

Tux and Velvet have a message for every one of us…
“Hug someone you care about”

Tux and Velvet