Do you really think it can be beat?

Kerry S said:

Can I beat this crap?
Can I beat this crap? Hell yes! Am I going to let this crap keep me in a constant depression mode? Hell no! I have a wife that needs me along with my 2 sons and their families. Plus, I just damn well enjoy living.

Any time you feel like it is all over but the shouting, give yourself the Golden Shovel Award. Known as the GSA. I wish we had a box on our post that others could check when they read a GSA post. When the box gets checked more then 10 times you would be required to seek professional help.

What you do with this award is go out in your back yard and start digging your own grave. Just maybe when your hands start blistering and your back gets weak you will realize it is much easier to have and keep a positive attitude. No one ever accomplished anything with a negative attitude.

I was told a long time back that you can put your emotions into four boxes. Mad, sad, glad or scared. At the start of this cancer mess I was just “scared”. I then turned to “mad” as hell. Now I am “glad” that I am still alive along with enough “mad” to keep fighting it.

I will admit I have had to give myself a GSA here and there in my journey. However, I can use my tractor to dig the damn grave. That makes it a lot easier. I am too damned old to dig it by hand.

just4Brooks said:

Cancer… It’s never really gone
Cancer… It’s never really gone

It hits me when I’m at the park with my kids. It hits me sometimes late at night. It hits me when I see the sun set at the end of the day. It hits me when driving along listening to music. Sometimes even hits be when I’m gong to the bathroom. Cancer is never really gone from our thoughts and that’s the rough part of this fight. But I have today while many of my friends don’t. It reminds me of something I read. It was about this father taking one of his little boys to the park.

~ While at the park one day, a woman sat down next to a man on a bench near a playground. "That's my son over there," she said, pointing to a little boy in a red sweater who was gliding down the slide. "He's a fine looking boy" the man said. "That's my son on the swing in the blue sweater."

Then, looking at his watch, he called to his son. "What do you say we go, Todd?" Todd pleaded, "Just five more minutes, Dad. Please? Just five more minutes."

The man nodded and Todd continued to swing to his heart's content. Minutes passed and the father stood and called again to his son. "Time to go now?" Again Todd pleaded, "Five more minutes, Dad. Just five more minutes." The man smiled and said, "O.K."

"My, you certainly are a patient father," the woman responded.

The man smiled and then said, "My older son Tommy was killed by a drunk driver last year while he was riding his bike near here. I never spent much time with Tommy and now I'd give anything for just five more minutes with him. I've vowed not to make the same mistake with Todd. He thinks he has five more minutes to swing. The truth is, I get Five more minutes to watch him play."


I just want to stay around for my family for 5 more minutes

lesvanb said:

Birth has a poor prognosis
well said Phil and Kathi and Aud et al

and we're all skating on thin ice whether we are living with cancer...or not. Usually when pondering things like life and death, I enjoy reading poetry. Mary Oliver is one of my favorite poets because I like how she doesn't beat around the bush.

When Death Comes by Mary Oliver

When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn;
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse

to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;
when death comes
like the measle-pox

when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,

I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering:
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?

And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,

and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,

and each name a comfortable music in the mouth,
tending, as all music does, toward silence,

and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.

When it's over, I want to say all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

When it's over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.

I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.

I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.


With much love and respect, Leslie

unknown said:

This comment has been removed by the Moderator

KathiM said:

I raise my glass....
Yup, I agree with you, phil....

As you know, both of my cancers (rectal followed closely by breast) were in the lymph system. No far mets..but, well, plently of 'dust bunnies'.

I fought long and hard for the opportunity to live life...so I AM living it!!! Let tomorrow take care of itself! That said, I watch what I eat, don't smoke, and drink plenty of water...I laugh every day, and try not to stress about stuff, as I used to...

Can it return? Of course, but, again, I'm not thinking too much about it...

Hugs, Kathi

herdizziness said:

Love the picture! I have
Love the picture! I have one close to it when we visited Spain. Such a fairy land that Guady built.

tesslee said:

if i was hit by a truck
at least i went quickly. this cancer thing is new for me. it's messed with my future plans and i don't like that. i try to live day by day but even that's hard when i have extreme fatigue an have to lie in bed. than i plan what i'm gonna do with my renovation house and what i'm physically going to do tomorrow, such as the laundry, sweep the floor, etc. the next morning comes and i'm weak and tired. then i forgive myself and say well maybe after chemo i can get some serious work done. then i think about what if i die soon, i need to get my affairs in order.

i keep reading about remission followed by another bout of cancer and chemo and i really don't know if i want that life. life for me is about quality and not quantity. God there's so much to think about when your life has changed with a dx of cancer. stage 4 and i look sick. i saw my primary care doc for the first time last week, i love him dearly, and he politely told me he wanted to do an iron test as i looked bad (but he put it a nice way). i said no i just have one a few days ago. it worries me that i look sick, i feel beat down, that's when i have to think of estate planning. can it be beat, yes i think so, my Mom beat it. but it was caught early. is that the difference, yes i think so, but there are always exceptions. hopefully all of us are exceptions.

i spent the last three weeks in bed mostly. the home care nurses made a mistake with the 5fu dosing. instead of three days (46 hrs) i ended having the pump on five days. it really did a number on my energy. it's amazing how my attitude is directly related to how i am feeling, hmmm, don't think that's anything new. but another chemo round today and if they (home health care) got it wrong this time, i'm going for blood.