Dec 07 2011
First chemo day
Well, today is what I like to call Chapter 3: The Chemo Fight. In case you are keeping track… Chapter 1: The Diagnosis, Chapter 2: The Surgery.
Here we sit with the chemical cocktail coursing into Michael and letting his body know we aren’t going to take this lying down. It’s strange, really. We are in this big room with about 32 treatment chairs, about 1/4 of them full (so, how many chairs have people in them, how many are empty? Sorry, it’s the math teacher in me) and we are all counting on this liquid drip stuff to save us/our loved ones. Weird. As I look around the room, I see that cancer really doesn’t have a “type”. It really does affect everyone. Young, old, all ethnicities — we are all included in this club. As I type, the chairs start to fill. Each person carrying their own hope, grief, sadness, strength, faith. We are all together yet fighting our own battles. What a community we are.
livestrong indeed.
I sit in the stillness of the Guest home lifting you and Michael up in my prayers and asking for blessings on you both and your loved ones.
8 chairs are full!!! Sorry, it’s the obedient student in me
It’s sad but true- cancer affects everyone and anyone. It does not discriminate by age, color, or gender. It doesn’t care if you just met your new girlfriend or if you are happily married with children. Please know that you are not going through this fight alone. Your friends and family are here fighting beside you!!
(I’ve written this twice now – it doesn’t seem to want to be “submitted” – I will leave it and hope it goes through) … I sit in the silence of the Guest home lifting you, Michael, and your loved ones up in another prayer – be strong.
It’s interesting how the chemo room makes you feel. I always drew some strength from it. There is always so much love there. Friends and loved ones sitting by their cancer fighter’s sides. Strangers helping each other out. The awesome nurses, doctors, and staff. Of course there is a lot of sadness too. And reality checks. But surrounding all of that there is always hope in the room. So you leave ready to take on the next two weeks. Go get ‘em Michael!
I vividly remember sitting in those rooms with my Mom during her first bout with cancer and seeing the people feed off of each other a bit, forming a group fight mentality. It was inspiring and I know it really helped my Mom out (she won the battle).
Thinking of you all during this time and sending every good vibe in your direction.
/kff
I feel to emotional to say much but pretty much Kathryn said, and Kyle. Hugs
I remember it all too well, if you watch that 50/50 movie it portrays that scenario perfectly.
I continue to gain strength each day by watching my sweet daughter (BADDMOM) grow stronger and smarter with each challenging day — And Michael’s strength,smile, and love for his family sustain us all through this journey. In weird ways, we are blessed even in the struggle. Your mom loves you, Felicia.
I remember mom’s radiation, she didn’t have chemo, but she had radium implant, that she had to lay in the hospital for 3 days. Then she had surgery, she enjoyed 21 years more of life, there is always hope. Love you
God bless you Felicia , with you at his side , God at his back, Michael
can do anything .
Charlotte & Ike Adams