<p>Sunrise - Adding prayer from Colorado…</p>
<p>Hope each day gets a tiny bit better. Prayed for you while driving to work (it was a really long stoplight).</p>
<p>Adding a prayer and positive thoughts from Chicago!</p>
<p>Chiming in for the first time on this thread with my positive thoughts for you. I am adding you to my prayer list, along with an old friend who was recently diagnosed with recurrence of breast cancer. May you find the strength you will need to get through this, and to help your family cope.</p>
<p>Strength and Peace on this historic Winter Solstice–from South Jersey</p>
<p>Praying for you every day. Take care.</p>
<p>sunriseeast-hope you are receiving “the good vibes” from this thread, even if you are unable to post.</p>
<p>Thinking of you, sunrise. I hope you are feeling stronger every day.</p>
<p>I’ve been thinking about you sunrise. I hope everything is moving in a positive direction for you.</p>
<p>Hi there Sunrise, </p>
<p>We are all thinking about you and sending you alot of positive energy. I hope you are home from the hospital, and sleeping better in your own bed. I am sending you many hugs.</p>
<p>Sending you good thoughts this morning Sunrise. Peace and blessings. Recover well.</p>
<p>Prayers from Maryland for your healing and recovery. Hope you are being spoiled rotten by people that love you.</p>
<p>I will say a prayer for you and your family.</p>
<p>I hope you have your family around you for the holidays.
I will keep you in my prayers.
Stay strong!</p>
<p>Sunrise, I hope you’re finding small moments in which to indulge in special “you” things. Listening to music you love…watching old movies…pampering yourself with a manicure…whatever the things are that you’ve always loved as special treats. You are the same person you’ve always been. I know your illness/surgery/prognosis must be very all-consuming and threaten to take up every waking/thinking moment of your life. But I’m praying for some peaceful moments for you each day and night where you can just be the “you” you’ve always been, and take your mind off this calamity for awhile. I hope something makes you laugh out loud today, and that this evening finds you in peace.</p>
<p>^^^ beautiful Momofsongbird …</p>
<p>Warm rays of sunshine coming your way from Florida. Our thoughts and prayers are with you and your medical team. May you look on this time next year as just a blip on your radar screen. Hugs.</p>
<p>My prayers are with you. You have touched so many, but mostly you have done so well with your kids. You are an amazing mother.</p>
<p>sunriseeast…I hope this finds you recovering from your surgery and with your family all home and gathered for the holidays. Thinking of you and sunnier days ahead.</p>
<p>thank you everybody.</p>
<p>I am so moved and humbled at the same time by such kindness from total strangers. Please know that I read every single one of your posts. Though I cannot thank you individually, know that I am so appreciative.</p>
<p>I should have come back to this thread and thank you earlier, but to be perfectly honest, I had a bit of inhibition to come back to “reality” for a while: I wanted to stay in a bubble for a few days after the surgery.</p>
<p>The surgery went well. They had to leave some cancer nodules behind since they were spread around my bowels and, it turns out, they don’t take any risk of accidentally perforating bowels because the consequence can be unmanageable. The remaining cancer nodules will be taken care of by the chemo, which should start within a couple of weeks.</p>
<p>It was not as bad I thought: the stuff that showed in/on/near the liver turned out to be ON the liver, NOT in the liver. Apparently, this avoids the diagnosis of stage IV, which is a good thing. </p>
<p>I am actually quite optimistic, not out of delusion, but for a rationale reason. I am a statistician by training, and when I saw some pretty grim prognosis for my condition, I did some back of the envelope assessment for the actual “statistical curve” that should apply to me (demographics, other health related status, socio economic factors, etc). I feel that I stand a very good chance of emerging as an outlier. Actually, this is how I also approached the matter with my kids. They are smart enough to do their own research and when they do, they will see these grim numbers. I would rather do a preemptive debriefing on theses numbers with them rather than leave him in fear. </p>
<p>When I came back from the hospital looking like a ghost and hunched (couldn’t stand straight due to the extensive abdominal surgery), my younger son couldn’t even bear to look at me straight. He is the “tough” type, and we always had rather feisty interactions. I guess it was extremely disturbing and frightening for him to see me, his mom who always yanked the chain when he goes to far, like this. My husband I are planning to arrange a few sessions of psychotherapy for him. It’s the “tough manly man” teenager type that needs more help in a situation like this. The older one is handling it much better - he is the “expressing” type, so it’s easier for him. </p>
<p>I am overwhelmed by the display of kindness and loyalty from my friends. It’s almost embarrassing to be on the receiving end of such good will and kindness because I genuinely feel that I did not do anything to deserve it. I am actually humbly accepting their help - that did not come easy for me, but I think this is also a growth experience for me. </p>
<p>As for my cancer, I actually don’t feel like it’s a monster, a dragon for me to fight and slay. No battle of Agincourt here. People have different ways of dealing with something like this. Among feisty people, a poplar conception is very militaristic: I will fight this, etc. I have a strange feeling. I feel like this, too, is part of me. Nobody from the outer space came and injected the alien seeds into my body. I envision my cancer as a petulant child that needs to be gently coaxed to leave through the exit door - like a screaming child in the movie theater who needs to be persuaded to leave. The other night, I was lying awake, and I had this image of a cancer as a bit of charcoal in dirty water. You know, a primitive way to purify water is to put charcoal into it. The charcoal absorbs the impurities of the water, then you take it out, leaving clean water. I had that image. During last ten years, though I may have looked “glamorous” to the outsiders, professionally speaking, I worked in some really toxic environment surrounded by some VERY unpleasant and unsavory characters, and it did take its toll on me. In the middle of the night I felt this cancer is that piece of charcoal that will leave my body with all the impurities created by this experience.</p>
<p>I know, this sounds pretty crazy, huh… I am not a particularly religious or spiritual person. Normally, I would say, this kind of mumbo jumbo is a classic example of a weak mind and an addled brain…</p>
<p>I am recovering from the surgery. I hope to be much further along by the time the chemo starts so that I can handle the next phase well. I am so profoundly grateful for all the support I have, especially from my husband. I always knew him to be the best husband I can possibly hope for, but during last few weeks, I realized that i seriously underestimated him. This is why I feel that even with this disease, I have been given a winning hand, and I will emerge whole. I am grateful for this good fortune.</p>
<p>I cannot thank all of you enough for your kinds words and support.</p>