No Franky Scale today, especially since the restaging result will do something to show that the FS doesn't always cut through this situation at the best angle, give us the best cross-section of life to see "how it is" from. My cancer is progressing now. Just a simple answer, progressing. Progressive stage-IV cancer.
All the nodes that were enlarged before are now even larger. The liver tumors, larger. Pancreas, the mother tumor, larger. And the lungs, the small nodules that appeared not to be cancerous before, well, those are larger, too, so the new diagnostic approach might be "Go figure."
This is no artful telling of things. I just wanted to pass on the news and don't have the motivation at this moment to make up a more entertaining story. Besides, there are times when the simple straight-forward telling needs to be left to do its work.
Later I can write about what it was like to have my mom there, I was there with my mom and K, and about how the discussion with Whiting shifted gears slightly into more euphemism and circumlocution. Why do we all get the impression that she wants this? Does she? She and I had a pretty frank talk about it all after coming home — there's another scenario to knock your socks off, sit down with your mom and discuss dying plans, what actual bed you might want to kick off in, and who might be around.
What a day. More later, just thought I'd pass on this much.
[I also allowed that comment from an anonymous person about "glyconutrients," which are still on the docket, but you know, I have thought better of it and this is not the place for people's sales-pitch testimonials so I'm going to yank it. No offense to the poster. But the comment was just about how some product can change your life and that's actually offensive to shove that kind of so-called "hope" into the face of someone who is really, actually sick.]
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4 comments:
scott, i have nothing i can add other than, this is just about as fucking shitty as i can take. im sure the nade didnt like having that convo. there are no words, just a heavyness. i love you and some progress in the positive would have been beautiful. k thank you for everything. i know what a awesome gift you have given him. it hasnt gone unnoticed. i HATE cancer.
:( (no words)
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Dear Scott: ( aka Mr. Jones )
I truly HATE CANCER. It SUCKS. The re-staging, is totally FUBARED.
If these tumors, this senseless cancer chooses to become “enlarged”
then “we,” all those who love and care about you, are going to
continue to fight, and rage against this senseless, putrid and ill-mannered disease
just that much harder.
Our hearts, support and tenacity, will become ENLARGED as well.
Love Love Love to you, my brother. You are so loved and respected.
Your strength continues to amaze me. You are amazing.
All I know, is that you are surrounded by such loving and caring friends
and companions, most of whom I have never met and don’t know personally.
Even so, it is evident that they have been touched and impacted by you
as well. As one of your sisters, I can’t help but love them all---
and let them know that caring for you, loving you, is worth everything---
it is a priceless and precious gift.
And so it goes .... we will fight and then rage and fight some more, as we continue
to love and support you.
I wish you peace---
I love and care for you so, so much.
I will never understand this stupid cancer--
I am here for you.
Whenever, wherever you need or want me to be.
Spacely, thank you for the blog log of your trip to Seattle. Mom,
I’m so glad you are there with Scott. You are kinda cute for an old fart. : )
And to Ms. K, Mr. Ted, Madam X and all of the rest of you who love and care for
my brother--- I love you and offer my thanks and gratitude. It is easy to love Scott, isn’t it ?? It is infectious.
Big, Fat Love ---
Sheri
I think the cancer needs to stop talking.
you have been in my dreams every night. you are in my thoughts and heart, awake and asleep. looking forward to seeing you in person.
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