Funny you should mention this. Last night, my sister said to me “OK, let’s say I have the surgery Monday, and they get all the cancer cells, and I’m all good; or let’s say they don’t get them all, but I get radiation or whatever, and I beat this. . .I want you to start walking with me every day; I don’t know if I can do a mile until I lose some weight (she is morbidly obese and her knees are bad), but I am going to train. I’ll start with a half-mile if need be; then I’ll work up to a mile, and further and further, and next year I will do the two-day ‘walk for the cure’ walk!”
I don’t know what the future will bring. I do know that it means a lot to me that you’re all pulling for us! And I know that I will do whatever I can to get her through this. Anything.
The walking will be good. She’ll very likely (everyone reacts differently and there are many possible courses of treatment) be too tired to undertake this sometimes, but just pick it back up.
Who knows, this might be the best thing that ever happened. My sister has a book where some survivors write, years after, say that it was. It forced them to figure out what they valued, and who they were important to. And stop wasting time on the things and people who weren’t important to them, or who they weren’t important to. And many of them it was the first step towards a healthier lifestyle.
She’s really vacillating a lot (and I do mean a lot) between ‘positive attitude’ and OMG, I’m gonna die and leave my grandbabies without a granny. . .
Her oncologist says this roller-coaster of emotions is totally normal. That is some comfort to her.
I’m just glad she’s here, where I can help her, instead of where she was, five hours away, and living with a niece who doesn’t give a damn except for can she afford to buy the latest DVD, or does she really have to pay the gas bill. . .
FWIW, things just kind of fell into place for her to be able to be here, and me to be able to take care of her, and that specific in-town doc (we only have two, in this tiny burg!) to do the breast exam and recommend a ‘big-town’ surgeon who happens to be very good at breast cancer. . .
Anyway, my sister and I both happen to be theists, and we don’t think this was entirely happenstance. Call it ‘Providence with a capital P’ if you want. We don’t know exactly what’s going on here, but we’re both pretty sure Something bigger than us is at work.
Huge hugs and good vibes and prayers to all of you – and I haven’t met you, but my mom has, and I’ll let her know to send some as well since she’s not been on the boards for awhile.
And however and whyever it happened, I’m happy you’re able to be there for each other.
My heart goes out to your sis and you. My mom had cancer two times, once in each breast. The second go round she had a double mastectomy. The cancer had spread to some of the local lymph nodes and she had to have chemo for damn near a year. She was 52 at the time by the way. She’s fully recovered at this point, aside from one or two benign masses found elsewhere. The best thing you can do is support her and, if she’s like my mom and puts everyone and everything before herself, ride her ass about taking care of herself. I’m so sorry that you’ve had to go through this with more than one family member. Sending good thoughts and positive vibes to you both.
I know I should know this, but my brain’s been on the fritz lately. . .who’s your mother? :o
Rachi, her attitude as far as taking care of herself is pretty good, actually (though you do raise a good point). Her kids are grown, and live in different states. I’m sure that the whole kit and kaboodle of 'em will be here at one time or another before it’s all through. Her son lives in Maryland, in the Baltimore area; it’s about a five-hour drive, but I have a feeling as soon as he has a break in work, he’ll get his ass out here. If it’s just him, I’ll find a place here in the apartment for him to crash (it’s pretty big, for an apartment; three bedrooms, two bathrooms. I hosted four guests over the Christmas holidays and we managed fine). If he brings his wife and kids (a 2YO girl, a 6week old boy, a 10YO stepdaughter), they’ll find a hotel, I guess. Same goes for my sis’s daughter, who lives just outside of Reading, PA. If she comes solo, she can stay here; if she brings her hubby, their 4YO son and her 11YO stepdaughter, they’ll find a hotel).
BUT. . .last night she and I discussed ways to make Monday (surgery day) as pleasant as possible for her; we can make sure the apartment is clean/uncluttered, so it looks welcoming when she gets home. We can make sure there’s stuff on the DVR she wants to watch. I can make sure there are fresh flowers in the living room (I’m a fool for fresh-cut flowers!); we can burn some scented oils to make the place smell good. Etc, etc.
She does seem to feel better about life in general when she accomplishes something, so even though I would take care of all the housework, etc (and no doubt will, for several days post-op), I push her gently to do little household chores like putting away dinner leftovers, loading the dishwasher, wiping down the kitchen counters, re-filling the ice trays (all chores she ‘signed up’ for, btw, when she moved in). When she does these things, even though she often has no energy (emotional not physical, I’m sure), she feels ‘productive’ and that improves her mood a lot.
She’s kind of commandeered 10YO mudgirl’s bedroom (it’s OK, mudgirl doesn’t mind sleeping in the living room), and has a CD player with lots of music she likes to listen to, and a TV with DirectTV hook-up (but no DVR; she has to come into the living room to watch DVR) and a DVD player.
So we’re doing all we can to keep her calm right now. That’s her biggest problem at this point.
Thanks again, to everyone, for the good thoughts/vibes/prayers/hugs, whatever you’ve got to offer. I’m in no position to be picky!
Strongest of best wishes and vibiest of good vibes to both of you.
I know you know this, but cancer survival rates get better practically every day. What your family members went through in the past is not a reliable indicator of what your sister will experience at all.
I’ve been through cancer treatment twice now – for two totally unrelated cancers, 13 years apart – and while it’s not really much fun, nothing you’d sign up for on a lark, it’s nothing like the OMG TEH MOST HORRIBAL THING EVAR!!!1! that most people seem to imagine. Once you get over the initial shock and recover from surgery, there’s a lot of mundane waiting in waiting rooms and uncomfortable but not really painful procedures. I think the worst part is when you get something important tested and have to wait for results, which it sounds like your sister will be doing after her surgery Monday: I will be thinking of her then!
All the best to your family, norinew. It’s true that breast cancer is really treatable. That may not make it any less scary now, but over time it’s good news.
I’m sorry your family’s going through this, Norine, and I’ll be sending you as many good vibes as I can spare. You’re a tough cookie - you’ll help her fight.
Thanks again, guys. I have no way of expressing, even to myself, how the good vibes of (mostly) total strangers* on a message board can help, but somehow they do, and that’s all that matters, right? Even if it’s just a ‘placebo effect’ type of thing.
*By ‘mostly total strangers’, of course, I mean I’ve never met most of you in person; but even those I have met really are pretty strange. . .
About 7:30 this evening (night before scheduled surgery), I went out to pick up some subs for dinner. And my car died. It’s too dark and too late in the game to try to have it repaired by 5:30 tomorrow morning. I’ve asked a couple of people about helping with transportation if we pay them, and got nothing yet, at it’s 11:30 at night. My sister called the hospital to ask their advice and they recommended a taxi service they deal with often. Now, a taxi into Clarksburg, where the hospital is, would run $50.00 each way, but this is important. We’re talkin’ cancer here.
Unfortunately, the taxi service, located in Clarksburg, doesn’t start running until 6AM, which means the earliest they could pick us up would be 6:30, earliest we could be at the hospital, absolute earliest would be 7AM.
The hospital was supposed to have paged her surgeon to have him call her, but so far, he hasn’t. So she called the hospital back, and they said to call at 6AM to re-schedule. She’s still going to fast after midnight, in the hopes that they may still be able to get her in later in the day tomorrow.
