Update & Farewell from Loretta Marshall~stopping treatments~ It's time to WALK AWAY

LorettaMarshall Member Posts: 662 Member
edited February 2019 in Ovarian Cancer #1



February 23, 2019

Update &Farewell letter to all my friends here on the CSN site

Hello to all dear friends dealing with a cancer diagnosis-

As you can see by the date on the bottom of this article by MAYO Clinic – February 20, 2006, I have kept this on file since then.  And rightly so, since my husband, William Marshall, was diagnosed with Esophageal Cancer Stage III (T3N1M0) “Adenocarcinoma at the GE (GastroEsophageal) Junction.   No one has to tell you the raw emotions that surge through your body when you find your name listed at the top of such a report.  Well, in November of 2002, it was my husband.  The good news is that he was able to have pre-op chemo/radiation and an Ivor Lewis Minimally Invasive Esophagectomy (MIE) in May 17, 2003.  Dr. James D. Luketich at the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center performed the surgery.  He is the thoracic surgeon who pioneered this surgery in the early to mid-1990s.  It is the surgery of choice at UPMC for EC patients.  We truly thank the Lord for extending my husband’s life.  William is now entering his 17th year of survival with no new evidence of disease (NED).  However, once you research this cancer, you know that recurrence is ALWAYS a possibility.  The chances of long-term survival are better if this cancer is detected in the “early” stages.  But most often “early detection” is not the case. 

Now my name is at the top of the list.  I was diagnosed with Stage IV Peritoneal Carcinomatosis/Ovarian Cancer as of November 2012.  I have undergone Cytoreductive Surgery, targeted radiation and 30 chemotherapy sessions.  My surgery was never intended to be curative, but rather a “pre-emptive strike” to remove “non-essential organs” to which the cancer could spread further.  My cytoreductive surgery took place on July 1, 2013.  It included removal of my ovaries, fallopian tubes, gallbladder, spleen, omentum and bowel resection.  Had I not had my uterus removed at age 36, surgeons would have removed that as well.  My surgeon was Dr. David Bartlett who is with the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center.  I went there for a second opinion, and that was when exploratory surgery showed it was in my ovaries as well.  Short of a miracle, there is no cure for my cancer.  But, I thank God for the extension of time HE has given both my husband and me. 

          Since other posts of mine have been more specifically about the treatment of this cancer, I will not repeat that here.  As always, the first decisions are where to find the best doctors, having the complete workup necessary for a correct diagnosis, getting a SECOND opinion, assessing your options, accepting the reality of this diagnosis, and moving on as quickly as possible.  And, of course, our best recommendation is to seek out surgeons at a major medical facility where the Minimally Invasive Esophagectomy is performed on a routine basis.  There are no “easy-as-1-2-3” steps, but there are survivors, and we want everyone to be one! Likewise, find the best hospital to treat Ovarian cancer, and one that administers HIPEC treatments as well, if that is the cancer you are dealing with. 

After an exhaustive effort at treatment, and the cancer still advances, we should all be asking ourselves, WHEN SHOULD I STOP TREATMENT?

But for the sake of others like myself who are in the process of facing this most important decision, I prefer the article first published in 2006.  Through the years I have shared it with others who came face to face with the “When-do-I-stop-treatments” decision.  Some have put all their faith in doctors and treatments and trusted that a magical breakthrough would arrive just in the nick of time.  Others have realistically faced the music, put all their cards on the table, and like the Gambler song, sung by Kenny Rogers, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=azZr1cSu9-4&start_radio=1&list=RDazZr1cSu9-4&t=71 have come to the realization that “…You’ve got to know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em, know when to run and when to WALK AWAY.  ”  Yes, it’s a heart wrenching decision but knowing when to “fold ‘em” is critical.  And like the last lines of this Mayo article say, “…When ending treatment makes you pain-free and more able to participate in various daily activities, you might find you have more time for friends and family…”

May God give wisdom to all of us who will face this decision.  As for me, I have had a total of 30 chemo treatments through the last 6 ½ years.  Realistically I should have died in no more than 29 months.  Indeed I could have died anytime from November of 2012 when first diagnosed.  God is the giver of life.  As I’ve said many times before, one of my favorite Psalms is 139.  Paraphrased the Psalmist David said, “Lord I cannot go anywhere that YOU are not already there.  YOU even saw me when I was being knit together in my mother’s womb.  And in YOUR BOOK ALL the days of my life were written when as yet there were none of them.  I firmly believe that and placed my life in the Lord’s hands at age 29.  He promised in Hebrews 13:5 to never leave me or forsake me.  And indeed He has not.  And when my life on earth is done, He promises to send HIS angels to escort me home to Heaven.  I firmly believe that and even now I believe angels are “waiting in the wings” to take me home to Heaven.  My oncologist told me in November 2018, that based on the last CT and the rapid advance of my cancer despite being on chemo at the time, that things were drawing to a close and that I had only “months to live.”    

The first time I visited my oncologist, I told him, “I want you to be totally honest with me as my cancer progresses.  Don’t try to spare me the details.  I want to know everything you know when you know it.”   He is also William’s oncologist.  And so, the time has come.  Although I knew the day was coming, I didn’t expect to hear it the day of that particular visit.  So it took me a couple of days to “absorb the shock” of “months to live” but I readily believed it.  Even though I was on active chemo, I had 2 additional Liver tumors, 2 new tumors in my Pancreas, and multiple tumors cropping up elsewhere.  Of course, there was the ever present Pleural effusion.  Twice since November I have been hospitalized with bowel blockage.  That is what takes the life of many Ovarian cancer patients. 

Last Wednesday I went to the emergency room because my hand was very red, swollen, hot to the touch, and I was running a fever.   It was diagnosed as Cellulitis—something I had twice before.  But when they checked my blood, they found my INR was 8 when it should have been no more than 3 because I was taking Coumadin on a regular basis for blood clots.  It was soon discovered that my Liver was not processing the Coumadin.  I was jaundiced when I went in.  After this 6-day hospitalization it has been determined that there will be no more chemo treatments (quite obviously) and no more Coumadin.  There is nothing else that can be done for me.  And indeed, I have tolerated the side effects of chemo, radiation and surgery because I felt I was having a good “quality of life” inasmuch as that’s possible when one has cancer.  And that is why I am signing off of replying to patients on the Peritoneal, Ovarian and Esophageal boards as of today, February 23, 2019.  It has been my mission since William’s diagnosis to try to help as many as possible to find the best places for treatment.  I know what it’s like being first a caregiver, and all the grief and anxiety and shock accompanied a cancer diagnosis.  And I know too, now, what it is like to be a cancer patient. 

On that note, I would implore all caregivers to research the cancer they are dealing with.  Please don’t think there are any easy fixes—would to God there were!  Let the patient decide when it is time to walk away.  I have done that with my family.  They all want to honor my wishes.  We’ve been given some extra time to show our love for one another, and that is mixed with grief of course.  As for me, it is my time to “walk away.”  It is painful at this point, and there is no quality of life to make me try to go on.  While I am not “despondent” and have total peace in my soul, and am ready to meet God face to face, leaving my family behind is the most painful part. This past Thursday, before I was discharged from the hospital, I signed up with HOSPICE.  They are equipped to handle all my needs to make my last days as comfortable as possible and I believe they will.  Thank God that William is still here and is by my side, helping in every way.  We’ve been happily married for 57 years.  On February 12, 2019 we celebrated our birthdays.  He is now 82 and I am 80.  And so we have been blessed to enjoy a good life.  But for the present time, we are grieving because we never want to part, but it’s my time.

Now it’s time to say “Farewell” to all my friends here.  Lord willing I will meet you all in Heaven one day. 

Loretta Marshall

Ovarian cancer first DX November 2012 & wife of William first DX November of 2002. 

P.S.  If anyone wants to read any of my past posts, they can find them at this link:



If you wish to know more “about me” you can “click on my picture” or use this link:



This is a poem my mother, Iris Willis, wrote when she was 96 years old.  The Lord sent His angels for her when she was 99. 

My Times Are In Thy Hand

  “You saw me before I was born.   Every day of my life was recorded in Your book."  Psalm 139 

My times are in Thy hand O God.

I am glad that it is so.

You've set a limit on the years,

That I shall walk below.

And while I walk this pilgrim way,

All things are in Thy Hand.


Sometimes when the way is hard,

Help me to understand,

That You know what is best for me,

That You have willed it so,

And someday I'll come forth as gold,

Because my path You know.


My times are in Thy hand,

Therefore I need not fear,

When sorrows like sea billows roll,

I know that You are near.

In Your Word You promise,

To leave me ne'er alone.


I see a rainbow through my tears,

By Your grace I travel on.

My times are in Thy hand,

The time that I shall go,

To see my Savior face to face,

Eternal bliss to know.

Iris O. Willis -      March 28, 1996 - Age 96


Here is the above-referenced Mayo clinic article which every cancer patient should have in their possession. 


Explore what it means to stop your cancer treatment — from what to consider when deciding, to what to expect once cancer treatment ends.

You've come a long way.  You made it through your initial cancer diagnosis and the shock and fear that came with it.  You've been through cancer treatment and the related side effects.

But for all you've overcome, if your cancer treatment isn't working as you and your doctor had hoped, you may face another tough step in your journey with cancer.  You may eventually need to consider ending your cancer treatment.

As you and your doctor decide whether or not to stop your cancer treatment, take time to gather information and assess your goals.  What you find might help you understand that stopping your cancer treatment isn't necessarily giving up.  Rather, it's a way to gain more control over how you'll spend the rest of your life.


When you were first diagnosed with cancer, you and your doctor probably discussed what sort of results you could hope for from your cancer treatment.  You probably hoped that your cancer would be cured.  But if your first line of cancer treatment didn't work as well as you had expected, you might have realized that your goal of a cure was no longer possible and that you needed to refocus your goal.

In life, whether dealing with cancer or anything else, goals aren't fixed and static.  Goals must remain flexible and change with the circumstances.  This is true when dealing with cancer.  Though your first goal, reasonably, is one of cure, sometimes treatment doesn't go as you had hoped.  Cure may no longer be a realistic option.  Readjusting your goals can help you focus on those things you can still reasonably control.

Throughout your cancer treatment, three phases or goals of care exist.  When you move from one phase to the next is up to you and your doctor.

  • The quest for a cure.  During this phase you and your doctor hope to cure your cancer.  You might be willing to put up with a large number of temporary cancer treatment side effects for the very large payoff — to be cured.  If your cancer goes into remission, your goal might now be to maintain your health and make sure your cancer doesn't return.
  • Prolonging your life.  If your cancer treatment doesn't proceed as expected, or if your cancer was diagnosed at a more advanced stage, the goal of being cured might not be realistic.  If this is the case, a reasonable goal might be to control or shrink the cancer or prevent it from spreading.  You might be willing to put up with some side effects of cancer treatment.
  • Comfort rather than cure.  A time may come when further treatment has little chance of prolonging your life or of shrinking your cancer.  In this setting, trying to achieve the highest possible quality of life is a reasonable goal.  Side effects must be kept to a minimum because any benefits are likely to be small.  At this point, you and your doctor work to keep you feeling as symptom-free as possible.  You might now focus your goal on your family and relationships, rather than your cancer.  This can be a time of great comfort and even personal growth.

Your treatment goals are never static, and you and your doctor should continually discuss your goals — slowly and gradually adjusting them based on your individual circumstances.  The process is very gradual and evolves throughout the course of your illness.


Making the transition to comfort and symptomatic (palliative) care can be a difficult choice.  Talking about your decision with your doctor and your family might help you sort out your feelings.  Some points you might want to discuss include:

  • What's your current condition?  Ask your doctor to be honest about your cancer and its progression.  And be honest with yourself.  Denying that your cancer is progressing, while a natural response, might prevent you from being able to make the most of your time.
  • What's your treatment doing?  Is it shrinking your tumor?  Is it fighting your cancer? What benefits is it providing, if any?  Think about the pros and cons of your treatment.
  • Why are you getting treatment?  Is it to shrink the cancer and live longer?  What are the chances of this happening?  Is it to relieve a symptom, such as pain?  Is it working for that symptom?  Are you getting these treatments for yourself, or is it because someone in your life wants you to?  Is there pressure from your family?  Is it worth it?  Many people with advanced cancer want to try every possible treatment, for fear they'll let down their loved ones if they don't.  But sometimes, getting ineffective treatments only takes you away from your family and loved ones for longer periods of time.
  • What's the downside to treatment?  What side effects do you experience?  Are they mild or are they intolerable?  To what extent does the treatment limit your ability to participate in the activities you enjoy?  Consider your quality of life.
  • Is the downside worth it?  For the benefit you're receiving from your treatment, are the side effects worth it?
  • What do you want for your future?  Will continuing your treatment prevent you from taking part in those activities?

In your decision to end your treatment, take into consideration your religious beliefs and other personal values.  Discussions with your religious adviser can help you focus your goals.




In a perfect world, the decision of whether or not to end your treatment will be thoroughly discussed between you, your doctor and your loved ones.  Your doctor would be sure of the potential benefits of your treatment.  And you would be open with your doctor about your fears and hopes for your future.

In truth, your doctor might find your prognosis difficult to estimate, and you might be afraid to admit feelings of depression or anxiety.  For this reason, it's important that you and your doctor have adequate time to ask each other questions and not be afraid to ask or answer difficult questions about your future.

Many times you and your doctor will agree with each other on whether to continue treatment.  But in some cases, you might disagree. 


If your doctor approaches you about ending your cancer treatment, you might feel betrayed.  You might feel like your doctor wants to give up on you.  Maybe you've been denying the fact that your cancer treatment isn't working, and you aren't ready to accept the fact that it might be time to stop.

Know that your doctor has your best interests in mind, and listen to your doctor's reasoning.  Ask questions.  Be honest about how the thought of ending your treatment makes you feel.  Just because your doctor suggests no longer treating your cancer, your doctor will always continue to treat you, to assure comfort and relieve symptoms to the best of his or her ability.  Ask to see X-rays and other tests that show the progression of your cancer.  This might help you better understand your doctor's opinion.

You might be reluctant to stop your treatment because you're afraid to lose control over your health.  You might also equate ending treatment with giving up.  But you can maintain both control and hope without the cancer treatment:

  • Maintaining control.  Deciding you don't want any more cancer treatment is a form of control in and of itself.  Taking away the treatment means you can have more time with friends and family without the side effects keeping you sidelined.  You can control your pain so that you can have a better quality of life.  And you still have control over several aspects of your own care, such as what you do and who you see.
  • Restoring hope.  If until now hope has come from your expectation of a cure, then ending your treatment might seem like giving up hope.  But you can draw hope from other places.  Time with friends and family and the comfort your loved ones bring can provide hope, too.  Terminally ill people often say that hope comes not from treatment, but through connections with others, spirituality and uplifting memories.

If, after discussing your treatment with your doctor and your family, you decide you don't want to stop your treatment, your doctor may be willing to continue treatment.  However, if your doctor knows the treatment will only hurt you, he or she can refuse to treat you.  If that happens, you can request a review of your case with the hospital or clinic management.  Or you can get a second opinion from another doctor.

When you want to end your treatment, but your doctor doesn't agree
Sometimes pain and other side effects can make your cancer treatment unbearable.  This may influence your decision to stop treatment — even if your treatment seems to be working.  But pain and side effects can sometimes be remedied so that you're more comfortable as you go through your cancer treatment.  Talk to your doctor about getting help for symptoms such as:

  • Pain.  Without proper pain control, you might feel like abandoning your treatment before you've given it time to work.  A number of solutions — from drugs to complementary therapies, such as meditation — can help you control your symptoms.  Your doctor can't detect the severity of your pain, so it is up to you to speak up.
  • Anxiety.  It's normal for you to be anxious about what is happening to your health.  Anxiety about your future and your family's future — financial, emotional and otherwise — are completely normal.  Medications might help you relieve your anxiety.  But talking with your doctor or another health care professional can also help you sort out your feelings and provide relief.
  • Depression.  Depression is common in people with cancer.  But those feelings of hopelessness can contribute to your physical symptoms, making you think you're worse off than you really are.  Medications are available for depression, and talking about your feelings can help.  Physical signs and symptoms of depression, such as weight loss and fatigue, are difficult for your doctor to diagnose since they can also be caused by your cancer.  So tell your doctor if you think you might have depression.

After these factors are controlled, you might be in a better frame of mind to make a decision about continuing your cancer treatment.  Don't accept pain, anxiety and depression as part of your cancer — they can all be controlled to some extent most of the time.

If you simply don't want to continue treatment, that's OK.  It's not a sign of weakness.  When to stop treatment is a highly personal decision.  You can always change your mind and restart your treatment if your doctor agrees.

In the end, it's your decision to make, but input from your doctor, other health care workers and your friends and family can be an important part of the decision-making process.



If you decide to end your cancer treatment, be honest and open with your family and friends when telling them.  Talking about your feelings can be therapeutic.  It can also help your friends and family come to terms with your decision to end treatment.  They'll better understand what they can do to help you and how you want them to behave toward you.  You might prefer to keep your feelings to yourself, and that's OK too.

It's possible that your friends and family might not understand your decision because of fears about your future or theirs.  Talking about your decision to end your treatment and your change in goals might help them overcome these fears.

If you have difficulty talking with your friends and family or if they have difficulty accepting your decision, talk to someone trained in counseling, such as a nurse, social worker, psychologist or a member of the clergy.  That person might have ideas for you to make talking with your friends and family easier.

Your friends and family may just need time to adjust to your decision.  Let them know you want them close and still need their support.

Talk with your family about your wishes for the future — called advance directives.  Discuss whether you'd want to be kept alive if machines were breathing for you.  Appoint someone to make health care decisions for you if you were to become incapacitated.



If you decide to end your treatment, it doesn't mean you'll stop being cared for by doctors and nurses.  You and your doctor will discuss your options.  You might have a loved one or friend who wants to help take care of you.  Or you might decide to use a home nursing service.

No matter what you choose, you'll still have regular checkups to make sure your pain is kept at bay and that you're comfortable.  Your doctor might have you seen by another doctor who specializes in palliative care — a doctor whose main focus is to make you comfortable, not cure you.

Stopping your treatment doesn't mean you'll die immediately.  After you end treatment, you could still be active and care for yourself for many months.  It's also possible your health could deteriorate rapidly.  How long you'll live after ending your treatment will vary depending on the type and stage of your cancer, as well as other health problems you may have.

  • Whether you want to stay at home is up to you and will depend on the level of care you need.  You might feel more comfortable in a hospital or nursing home with doctors and nurses nearby at all times.  Or you might prefer the comfort of your home with a nurse to check in on you every day.  You might choose a hospice program, which is designed for people who generally aren't expected to live more than six months.


  • When ending treatment makes you pain-free and more able to participate in various daily activities, you might find you have more time for friends and family.  Being able to be cared for at home might mean you could keep up with hobbies or activities that make you happy. “


  • By Mayo Clinic Staff --Feb 20, 2006 © 1998-2006 Mayo Foundation for Medical Education and Research (MFMER).  All rights reserved.  A single copy of these materials may be reprinted for noncommercial personal use only.  "Mayo," "Mayo Clinic," "MayoClinic.com,"

This article was revised by MAYO Clinic in May 2013.   You can access that here. http://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/cancer/in-depth/cancer-treatment/art-20047350 “Cancer treatment decisions: 5 steps to help you decide”





  • Tethys41
    Tethys41 Member Posts: 1,382 Member


    Words cannot express how sad this news makes me. 

    I know you have been through a lot with this disease.  You've never sounded in your posts like you thought anything oher than this moment would come.

    I appreciate your presence here and the volumes of information you have shared with others facing ths journey. 

    I wish you well on the remainder of yours.

    I know you will face it with grace.




  • cmb
    cmb Member Posts: 1,001 Member
    Your Legacy


    Although I have uterine cancer, I periodically visit this board as well since treatments protocols for my grade 3 cancer can overlap with ovarian. While here I've appreciated the sage advice and resources you've provided to other women struggling with ovarian cancer.

    I didn't join the uterine board until I was through with treatment. And before I decided to become a member I went back to the beginning of that board to read the posts provided by other women as they were on their journey with cancer. I was heartened by those who have achieved long-term remission, but I still learned many things from the women who have unfortunately passed on. They have all left a legacy that newer members such as myself continue to benefit from.

    So I know that your contributions to the ovarian board will be appreciated not only by the women already here, but by those who will find this site in the future.

    Thank you so much for your dedication to this site and for taking the time to wish us farewell with your usual blend of pragmatism, information and concern for others.

    I dearly hope that your remaining time, whether long or short, be peaceful and surrounded with love from your husband and other family and friends.

  • Forherself
    Forherself Member Posts: 999 Member
    Being Mortal

    is a good book to read about your struggle.   Bless you in your days left.   We all have a fatal condition.....called life.   Your letter is so inspiring and sharing your feelings is a blessing to those of us stil here.   May you have many good days.

  • NoTimeForCancer
    NoTimeForCancer Member Posts: 3,444 Member
    Loretta, my friend, I have

    Loretta, my friend, I have tears in my eyes as I read your post, and yet I hear you telling me not to cry as we will meet one day.  I know our God will welcome his daughter with open arms as you have loved as He taught us.  Thank you for all you have given.  Much love to you my friend.  

  • derMaus
    derMaus Member Posts: 558 Member
    I am also a visitor from the

    I am also a visitor from the uterine board who has benefited so much from your wisdom. Thank you for letting us know you are beginning your homewary journey; may it be an easy and peaceful one for you. Farewell, until we meet in another time and place. B 

  • Northwoodsgirl
    Northwoodsgirl Member Posts: 571

    I too am a visitor from the uterine cancer discussion board. Thank you for sharing and helping so many over the years. You are a child of God and he and his angels have been and always will be with you. May your days be pain free and filled with love.  You have made a difference  in so many people’s life.  God speed dear one....


  • EZLiving66
    EZLiving66 Member Posts: 1,483 Member
    edited March 2019 #8
    Loretta, I am also from the

    Loretta, I am also from the uterine board but have read many of your posts and they have always been so informative and helpful. I will miss you, sweet Loretta. And who knows, maybe we will meet someday on the other side.



  • MAbound
    MAbound Member Posts: 1,168 Member
    Such incredible grace

    I hope that I can be as at peace at my end as you seem to be now. God bless you and welcome you into his loving embrace. Well done.

  • Soup52
    Soup52 Member Posts: 908 Member
    edited March 2019 #10
    Loretta, as a visitor from

    Loretta, as a visitor from the uterine board I have visited your posts often.You have given us all,I hope wisdom and countless information through your research . I will miss all of this terribly, but wish you much peace in your passing. Prayers and us.

  • ConnieSW
    ConnieSW Member Posts: 1,688 Member
    Dearest Loretta

    I have followed and been inspired by you for years. The support and education you have so generously given us is priceless. We are all so grateful to you and will miss you so much. 

  • Wannabeatit
    Wannabeatit Member Posts: 100 Member
    Dear dear Loretta. I am also

    Dear dear Loretta. I am also from the uterine board and have followed you since I first signed on. You have always been a shining beautiful star. May you find great peace going forward. You are an inspiration.

  • Deki1981
    Deki1981 Member Posts: 1
    Dear Loretta

    hi Loretta, Its Deki, i lost my old username , but went and created a new one to be more active on the board and to thankyou for the all the research, and advice you gave me in the beginning of my mothers journey in battling ovariancancer stage 3. I cant never be thankful enough for helping me. You Are inspiration to me, and even though we never met in person you Are a person i hold dear in my heart. Much love.

  • evolo58
    evolo58 Member Posts: 293 Member
    You have been such a source of inspriation

    Thank you.

    May God guide you on this new journey.

    (I am also from the uterine cancer board.)

  • Kaleena
    Kaleena Member Posts: 2,088 Member
    Will will miss you

    So sorry to hear the passing of Loretta on March 5, 2019.  She was from Norfolk, Virginia.   

    Although I don't post much, I always read Loretta's very helpful and informative posts.   You will always be in our hearts.

    Prayers to all who knew her, family and friends.

  • bluesmama
    bluesmama Member Posts: 125 Member
    This is so sad


    When my cancer returned on my ovary, I turned to the ovarian cancer board for advice. And just like many on this board likely, you were one of the first respondants. Always willing to pass over information. Frankly, I check the board to find out how folks like you are doing and I'm sad to see this note. 

    Your husband and family are in my thoughts today. RIP Loretta.



  • abrub
    abrub Member Posts: 2,174 Member
    Thank you for all you've done for others

    Your caring has made all of our journeys a bit easier.  You have lived a good, caring life.  I wish you peace.

    Love, Alice

  • Palor
    Palor Member Posts: 21
    As a stage IV patient, you

    As a stage IV patient, you set an example of how we should "dance" with this terrible disease.  Till the last moment, you still wrote long post to help all others.  I wish you peace and we all will learn from your spirit.

    Love, Palor