Last July I wrote this very happy post about two very dear friends I met on the Colon Club forum, Pat & Jed, because Jed had just got the all-clear on his latest PET scan (as had I) and Pat was continuing to do well living in NEDville (NED = no evidence of disease). The three of us have had many parallel experiences, though both Pat and Jed have undergone much longer and harder chemo stints than me, and have also had more difficult operations. Frankly, as my doctors have said they see no possibility of curing me, I reckon I’m just being given “chemo as required” as long as the tumours stay away.
After my last PET scan in January I got in touch with Jed (Pat and I see each other on twitter) to see how he was faring. And he told me the bad news… a recurrence in both lungs and lymph nodes. Prognosis: inoperable and on “chemo for life”, however long that turns out to be. My initial reaction was to go completely into denial – this couldn’t be happening to my Wonder Twin! And as I was in the throws of packing and moving house I wrote a quick email that was all bluster and bravado (sorry Jed) saying I’d be back soon. And every day since then I’ve wondered what I could say, how I could help, and kept saying to myself “I’ll write tomorrow!”
Then last night I got a quick message from Pat. Her cancer was back. Sounding almost exactly like Jed’s – lungs, lymph nodes and possibly bone mets – and I fell apart. I could no longer do the denial thing and cried for a solid hour, just like I’m crying now. I sent them both messages asking how I could help, meanwhile I couldn’t remember ever feeling so helpless in my life. But I really really want to be able to do something.
It’s just that, you know, this is all so damned unfair!! Pat and Jed have done everything right, they got on healthy diets, and did everything they could to help their luck along. Meanwhile I’ve not changed things all that much diet-wise, continue to drink too much wine and am still very overweight. WTF? No, I’m not saying that I deserve to get a recurrence and they don’t (though to be honest, I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop) … it’s more that none of it makes sense. And I am left angry and hurt and scared … and then ashamed that I end up thinking about me. But it’s not only about me, because I think I know how Pat and Jed are feeling right now. None of us are into false hope and patent “positive thinking” crap. And so when Jed tells me “I know you well enough to know that you will not think I’m morbid or ‘giving up’ or any such nonsense”, well, he’s right. But then when he says “now you’ve GOT to hold the line! Twin powers always activated” I burst into tears and want rail against the goddamn stupid bad luck that brought us all to this place. Even though it’s the same goddamn luck that brought us all together. It does give one pause.
Guys, you’re probably reading this. Thanks for the email today Jed, and I hope you can send me some more info about how you’re doing soon Pat. I’m sorry for getting so emotional, because I know that doesn’t help. But I love you both so much and, just like it says up there, your existence gives me hope. And it always will.
Very hard text, but sometimes it’s just “good”, well… Better said necessary to be emotional. Wish I could do something too… For them and for you!
Wishing you all strength and hell, yeah, some positivity too!
Love,
Caroline
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“It’s just that, you know, this is all so damned unfair!!”
That sums it up – no one said life was supposed to be fair, but it alsways comes as a surprise to find out how unfair it is, or can be.
Maybe there is no “right” or “wrong” thing to do, you have to do what is right for you and what you believe in.
My guess is that both Pat and Jed know what a shock this is for you, and that shock does funny things to people.
They also know you care, and will continue to do so.
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A most moving post
{{{az}}}
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In the midst of your sadness you ask your friends how you can help them. This sums up the impression I’ve built up of you over the past couple of years reading your blog. Offering yourself. So I’m quite sure neither Pat nor Jed mind that your thoughts also turn to yourself. Of course they do, how could they not? I’m sure it’s never that far from your thoughts anyway, but of course this brings it to the surface and you have to think about your own “what ifs…” as well as your friends’ situations.
Virtual hugs from me too.
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Adding to the hug brigade.
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Really sad news and I feel for you, and Jed and Pat too. None of us knows what is round the corner for us but for me my Christian faith gives me a different perspective on life ( and death ). And so this comes with my love AND prayers. xx
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{{{Group hug}}} from me, too.
Helplessness is the most frustrating and stressful emotion so, while I obviously can’t begin to imagine what it is like to be in your situation or Jed or Pat’s, I sympathise and wish all three of you miraculously well.
If love really did conquer all, then I’m sure cancer would have slunk back under its stone a long while ago, faced with such strongly loving friendships. Let’s hope it finally gets the message soon.
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Hugs are always appreciated, though it wasn’t my intention to sound needy here. Clearly the news of my friends’ recurrences did hit home in a way that felt personally threatening, along with my deep concern about their well being. So I think this blog post came out a bit confusing, but it also reflects how I was feeling at the time.
Anyhow, I’m done tilting at windmills for the moment and am back to the business of carping the diem and behaving like someone I can feel proud of being. I’m sure that both Pat and Jed will let me know how I can help.
Meanwhile, I have an oncology appointment this afternoon. Looks like I’m going alone. But this time I’m not afraid.
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