Support for LateToSchool

NYMomof2 · June 13, 2008, 11:10pm

Sending good wishes for successful radiation therapy - and seconding the recommendation for tea made with fresh ginger. It’s great for colds, upset stomachs, and it tastes wonderful. My variation on mafool’s version: take about 1" of fresh ginger, peel and chop, boil for a while in water, drink.

mythmom · June 13, 2008, 11:40pm

lts: Just checking in. Goodnight and sweet dreams, supporting the Dalai Lama and the wonderful ADad.

epistrophy · June 14, 2008, 8:03am

and more

“Girlfriends do Relay again”

Those girlfriends are at it again! A group of Caledon women will once again be participating in the Canadian Cancer Society 12-hour Relay for Life on June 13 in Alliston to raise money for cancer research. 

The team calls themselves Girlfriends are Forever and consists of Adele Tichy, Andrea Gorman, Alessia Ciccone, Ashley Luu, Heidi Spencer, Jenn Way, Kim Oliver, Melanie Jordan, Nadia Casagrande, Shelley Durrant and Tina Woodley. Last year the women reached dream team status and hope to once again. 

The Relay for Life has become a tradition for us, said team member Oliver. As girlfriends, we celebrate with Tina who has been cancer free for six years. I also participate to honour the memory of my Paw, Gord Wood. It is an evening of fun and good times with great friends all while making a difference by raising money for cancer.

This year as the girlfriends walk, the fight will be close to their hearts as they remember Lynda, who lost her battle last fall. Not only was Lynda a member of their relay team but also fellow team member Tichys mom.
Im so glad my mom and I got to experience the Relay together last year. I was extremely proud to watch her walk the Survivors Victory Lap with Tina. My mom and I were very close and I admired her strength throughout her struggle, said Tichy, who hopes to make the Relay an annual event for her family.

**Team member Woodley is also a cancer survivor and has been cancer free for six years. 

As a non-smoker, being diagnosed with lung cancer was a complete shock. I do the relay with some of my best girlfriends as a way to fight back and hopefully find a cure for this disease that has not only affected me, but so many others. I hope that one day my children can live in a cancer free world, and that I am here to see it too!**

[The</a> Caledon Enterprise: Providing Local Community News for Caledon, Ontario 24/7](<a href=“Caledon Breaking News Stories | Caledon Enterprise”>Caledon Breaking News Stories | Caledon Enterprise)

<hr>

“Relay for Life gives chance to reflect, celebrate, take action”

Like many of us, Roxanne Custer was always more than happy to donate to Relay for Life, a fundraiser for the American Cancer Society.

A woman she knew, a breast cancer survivor, hit her up every year and she gave what she could.

But Custer never had a compelling reason to participate in the annual event staged at Chemeketa Community College until last year.

She went because now she’s a survivor. She had just finished 16 weeks of chemotherapy, wearing a scarf to cover her bald head, and was about to start radiation treatments when she walked with members of a breast cancer support group from the YWCA.

The experience was emotional and inspirational.

“It brings people together, and it’s very encouraging,” said Custer, a 51-year-old wife and mother in Sublimity. "I mainly cried, but not so much because I was sad. I kept telling myself, ‘Look at all these people who are survivors. You can do this.’ "

She’ll be back on the track Friday for this year’s relay, sans scarf, with fellow members of the support group. Her hair has grown back, and she’s cancer free.

Relay for Life gives communities across the country an opportunity to celebrate, remember and fight back. It’s billed as the nation’s largest fundraiser. There were 4,075 relays in the U.S. last year, which brought in $405 million to support cancer research, education, advocacy and patient services through the American Cancer Society.

Salem’s relay, which raises more money in Oregon than any other but Eugene, will take place from noon Friday to noon Saturday. Participating teams are asked to have a representative on the track, walking or running, at all times. The event is staged overnight to symbolize that cancer never sleeps and those who have the disease battle it day and night.

If you haven’t been touched by the disease, consider this: An estimated one in three people will be diagnosed with cancer in their lifetime, according to the American Cancer Society.

Two of the most moving moments of the event are the survivor lap and the luminaria ceremony.

The survivor lap is at 6 p.m. Friday. All cancer survivors are invited to take a victory lap while family members, friends and other participants honor them with applause.

“They clap the whole time,” Custer said. “The track was full (last year). It was amazing.”

**The power of the survivor lap is difficult to describe, according to cancer survivor Mike Dodson of Salem.

“It’s just a lap around the track no big deal,” Dodson, 54, said. “But with the people lined up around the track clapping, it hits you hard emotionally. They’re clapping in acknowledgment of what I’ve gone through. They understand the pain and suffering of cancer.”

Like Custer, Dodson didn’t know much about Relay for Life until he was diagnosed with lung cancer 2 1/2 years ago. He imagined the event would be silly and boring until he walked that survivor lap for the first time in 2006. He was a volunteer last year, helping at the survivor registration table.

“I look up and see these people, and they’re just like me,” Dodson said. “They’re real calm and happy. They’re happy just for the fact that they’re alive and able to go. Life means so much more than it ever has in their lives.”**

Remembering those who have lost their lives to cancer is a crucial part of Relay for Life. The luminaria ceremony is at 10 p.m., with the track brightened by the glow of lighted bags that bear the names of those who have died of the disease. A donation of $10 is requested for each luminaria.

That brings up perhaps the most important reason for Relay for Life, to fight back and raise money for the American Cancer Society. Donations help save lives and give hope, for folks like Custer and Dodson.

Relay for Life of Salem raised more than $250,000 in 2007, and its goal this year is $350,000.

As of Tuesday afternoon, it had registered 97 teams and raised more than $133,000, according to its section on the Web site, [RelayForLife.org</a> | Celebrate. Remember. Fight Back.](<a href=“http://www.relayforlife.org%5DRelayForLife.org”>http://www.relayforlife.org).

“I know people who want to forget the whole thing,” Custer said of the battle against cancer. “But with the Relay for Life, the money they raise for the research they do is the reason I’m alive.”

[Relay</a> for Life gives chance to reflect, celebrate, take action | StatesmanJournal.com | Statesman Journal](<a href=“http://www.statesmanjournal.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20080612/COLUMN0807/806120316/1001/NEWS]Relay”>http://www.statesmanjournal.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20080612/COLUMN0807/806120316/1001/NEWS)

<hr>

“Benefits of vitamin D”

You can get it from sitting out in the sun or drinking a cold glass of milk. No matter how you get it, vitamin D may be doing you more good than you thought.

Area researchers say this common vitamin may help slow or prevent the growth of cancer cells.

David Rose enjoys keeping his hands busy with something other than cigarettes. He smoked for 40 years. His three pack a day habit and his job working with asbestos in the pit of a steel mill put him at risk.

David says, “I got down in the pit with a broom and swept all this stuff up to the end and shoveled it out with a shovel. I lived in a cloud of asbestos for a year and a half.”

David developed lung cancer but because he caught it early doctors were able to remove it.

To keep it from coming back, researchers at Roswell Park Cancer Institute in Buffalo are trying something new. They’re giving patients high doses of vitamin d after noticing how potent it could be in the lab.

Researcher Dr. Alex Adjei says, “In cancer cells grown in the lab as well as in animals that it can actually stop cells from dividing and growing and spreading.”

Which is crucial for lung cancer patients. By the time many are diagnosed the disease is already advanced and treatment options may be limited.

But in the future, this common vitamin may offer people new hope.

Researcher Mary Ellen Reid adds, “With an agent that’s shown as much activity as vitamin d, that in this population, we have an opportunity to slow the progression to lung cancer and maybe reverse it.”

David is signed up for the study in an effort to both keep his lung cancer in check and to help doctors in their efforts to build new defenses against this deadly disease.

This was started after researchers measured vitamin d levels in colon cancer patients. They noticed those who had higher levels of vitamin d did better than those who didn’t.

We get vitamin D from the sun, and from foods like milk, fish, and egg yolks.

[www.whec.com</a> - Benefits of vitamin D](<a href=“http://www.whec.com/article/stories/S476286.shtml?cat=577]www.whec.com”>http://www.whec.com/article/stories/S476286.shtml?cat=577)

Lafalum84 · June 14, 2008, 11:37am

Yes, it is Relay for Life season! Our town’s Relay was last weekend, several neighboring towns are this weekend. It’s so heartening to see adults, teens, families, etc joining together to have fun and support such a great cause. The luminaries lining the track remind us that there is probably not a person alive in America whose life has not been touched in some way by cancer - if they’re not a survivor, they have a family member or friend who is, and odds are they also know someone who lost their life to this disease.

My parents will celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary next weekend, despite my mom’s ovarian cancer (stage 3) diagnosis 4 years ago. Statistically, she’s already in the “elite” (her doctor’s term) because she’s still here and well enough to enjoy the day.

Latetoschool, your attitude is inspirational. Thank you for letting all of us share your journey.

ADad · June 14, 2008, 11:11pm

–John Muir

epistrophy · June 15, 2008, 10:54am

This last from ADad reminds me of some lines by the inestimable Ms. Dickinson:

epistrophy · June 15, 2008, 1:26pm

and another

“Leon County Sheriff Larry Campbell announces he is [lung] cancer-free”

Leon County Sheriff Larry Campbell announced today that his doctors have told him he is cancer-free.

A cancerous spot was found on his right lung last August. According to the release, Campbell stopped smoking and began fighting the disease.

He had the growth removed at Tallahassee Memorial Hospital, and underwent four months of chemotherapy.

News Release from the Leon County Sheriff’s Office

Last September, Sheriff Larry Campbell shared with the citizens of Leon County that he had been diagnosed with lung cancer. During a routine physical exam on August 15, 2007, a chest x-ray revealed a cancerous spot on Sheriff Campbells right lung. Sheriff Campbell said he remembers that day as the day he stopped smoking and began his battle to beat cancer. In September 2007 Sheriff Campbell underwent successful surgery at Tallahassee Memorial Hospital to remove a cancerous growth on the lower lobe of his right lung. Two weeks later Sheriff Campbell was back at work and began four months of chemotherapy at the Moffett Cancer Center in Tampa, Florida.

In February 2008, Doctor George Simon of Tampa, Florida informed Sheriff Campbell he was cancer free and discontinued chemotherapy. Through all of the chemotherapy treatments, Sheriff Campbell worked a full schedule and continued to vigorously pursue his duties as Sheriff. Of the experience Sheriff Campbell said, I am an optimistic person by nature, and I did not think for a moment that this was not something I could beat. I did not suffer many of the common side effects of the chemotherapy and Dr. Simon and his staff did a great job of keeping me healthy and strong.

Last week Sheriff Campbell underwent follow up exams at Tallahassee Memorial Hospital and the Moffet Cancer Center, which confirmed he is cancer free. Sheriff Campbell would like to thank Doctor Michael Forsthoefel, Doctor Alberto Fernandez, Doctor David Saint of Tallahassee, their staff and Tallahassee Memorial Hospital for their professionalism and caring. Sheriff Campbell thanks his wife Machelle, son Jack, daughters Jeannette and Meghan, whose love and humor kept him focused on a speedy and complete recovery. Sheriff Campbell gives a special thanks to the citizens of Leon County for their support and concern for his health and wellbeing as he fought this battle. Sheriff Campbell said Everyday a citizen I did not even know, would wish me well and encourage me to fight this cancer. I met many cancer survivors who reached out to me and gave me renewed resolve that I was going to beat this cancer and not let it slow me down.

Sheriff Campbell joked Cancer sucks and I have a Cancer Walk T-Shirt to prove it, referring to this years Leon County Sheriffs Office Relay for Life T-Shirt slogan Cancer Sucks. However, Sheriff Campbell wanted to stress the importance of a yearly physical exam and the dangers of smoking. Sheriff Campbell said I have no doubt what caused my cancer. After smoking three packs of cigarettes a day for 37 years, it caught up with me. But I never missed a yearly physical exam and that saved my life. I no longer smoke; I eat healthy and work out daily. If I am not at a community event in the evening, you will find me at Tallahassee Memorials Premier Fitness working out and living an active and healthy lifestyle.

[Leon</a> County Sheriff Larry Campbell announces he is cancer-free | tallahassee.com | Tallahassee Democrat](<a href=“http://www.tallahassee.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20080614/BREAKINGNEWS/80614010]Leon”>http://www.tallahassee.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20080614/BREAKINGNEWS/80614010)

momof3sons · June 15, 2008, 2:00pm

At 2 p.m. today, NBC-TV is showing the Tiger Woods Golf Challenge, which features John Atkinson, the 38 year lung cancer patient, playing golf with Tony Romo, Justin Timberlake and Matt Lauer. It is supposed to be quite the emotional/inspirational event.

ADad · June 15, 2008, 11:19pm

–Lincoln .

esobay · June 16, 2008, 1:52pm

bump from page 2

I deadheaded my sweet peas and bachelor buttons today. Every one was a gone cancer from LTS. snip snip snip out with them … and now the bushes are bare-er, but lovely and smell so sweet.

Sending you a bouquet of the sweetest smelling sweet peas ever, LTS.

keymom · June 16, 2008, 1:59pm

LTS-
Have you gotten the book Crazy Sexy Cancer (it was also a documentary which I didn’t see). I was sorting through alot of stuff people have given me and this book is great. Made me laugh and also had some interesting dietary suggestions. Author is in her thirties 5 years out from a diagnosis of liver cancer mets to lungs which she states she is treating like a chronic disease.

aibarr · June 16, 2008, 3:15pm

Internal deadline for the package with LTS’s spandrels in it is June 24th. We send them to the architect on July 8th, and the contractor will bid on them ASAP after that. Then: construction!

Sending some strength.

epistrophy · June 16, 2008, 8:52pm

“The day I was told I had lung cancer, by the brother of Radio 4’s John Humphrys”

Bob Humphrys - younger brother of Today show presenter John - spent 20 years as a sport correspondent with BBC Wales.

Last month, a few weeks after retiring, the 56-year-old was told he has lung cancer, despite never having smoked.

In this brave, honest and defiantly witty article, written hours after his diagnosis, Bob - who is married with three children and lives near Cardiff - reveals the shattering impact of discovering his illness . . .

<hr>

You shouldn’t be reading this about me! Hell, I shouldn’t be writing this about me! You should be reading this about somebody else, and I should be writing this about somebody else. Except I’m not: it is about me.

There are an awful lot of ‘mes’ there - but I’m rather afraid this is a subject where ‘I’, ‘me’ and ‘my’ are going to dominate, because it’s not happening to somebody else.

It’s going to affect lots more - my wife, my three kids, even my cats, who seem remarkably aware of my change of mood in the last three hours - but the bottom of the line is that it’s me who’s got to face this thing.

This thing called ‘death’. There, I’ve said it. It’s been only three hours since the news, but already I’m coming to terms with my own mortality.

Maybe I’ve been coming to terms with it for a bit longer than that. Ever since my doctor, Trevor, who also doubles up as a friend, said I could probably do with a chest X-ray to sort out some pains I was getting in my chest and shoulder.

I put it down to writing a book, crouched over a lap-top on a kitchen table. Bad posture, got to be. Nothing to worry about. Trevor sort of agreed. He might even be able to write it up in a medical journal. But just to be on the safe side . . .

I made the appointment with the hospital. ‘Next week?’ asked the girl on reception. 'Bit difficult . . . how about the week after? She looked at her appointments. ‘It’s Bank Holiday on the Monday, how about Tuesday the 27th.’ We had a deal.

But what if I’d said I couldn’t make it on the 27th? What if I had a prearranged filling at the dentists, or just didn’t fancy getting up early after a Bank Holiday night out?

Then, I wouldn’t be feeling like this now. I’d be in that blissful state of ignorance. I’d still be blaming bad posture, swallowing the odd anti-inflammatory and worrying about the credit crunch and the price of fuel.

But no, I’d said I go on the 27th and I did.

It’s funny how fate jumps in front of you, pulls a funny face and runs off cackling when you’re facing up to inner fears. Why do I say this? A few days before the X-ray, I had an innocent Sunday evening pint with the papers at the pub after Manchester United’s Champions League triumph.

It’s a Fergie-fest. Now, I am not a founder member of the Sir Alex fan club and his self-imposed embargo on talking to the BBC, so I was tempted to skip the page. I’d wanted Chelsea to win, after all. But I’d paid for the Sunday Times and I was going to read it!

There was a passage that leapt out at me - a poignant memory Fergie had of his dad: 'There are too many examples of people who retire and are in their box soon after. Because you are taking away the very thing that makes you alive, that keeps you alive.

'I remember my dad had his 65th birthday and the Fairfields shipyard gave him a dinner in Glasgow with 400 people there. It was a big night for my dad. I was in Aberdeen and came down for it on a Friday.

‘The next week my mother phones and said: “Your dad’s going in for an X-ray, he has pains in the chest.” I said: “It’ll be emotion.” Well, it was cancer. A week, one week.’

Thanks, Sir Alex. Just what I wanted to hear. I’ve just retired, I’ve got pains in my chest, and I’m going for an X-ray. That’s all I need to read.

But then a big furry creature called ‘Rationalisation’ appears and puts his arm around you. ‘C’mon, Bob,’ he purrs. 'How many people have an X-ray for pains in the chest and are soaking up the sun in St Tropez as we speak?

‘Well, yeah, OK, not many, but that’s down to the exchange rate of the pound against the euro rather than the fact that they’ve ended up in their box. Anyway, Fergie was talking about the mid-1980s. Think how treatment has progressed since then!’

‘You’re right, Big R,’ I reasoned, and turned the page.

The X-rays were deceptively mundane. ‘George Robert Humphrys,’ a nurse calls out. A couple of quick clicks, put your shirt back on, a slightly apprehensive jest - ‘Got a good picture?’ - and it’s time to go home.

‘Your doctor should have the results in a week, but ring before you go. They might not have turned up by then.’

That wasn’t so bad, then. Even if the local evening paper then chips in to stoke up my fears with a story about a woman raising money for a specialist treatment centre. Her husband was telling the story about her organising a ball to raise funds for the hospital.

However, there was a sting in the tail. She herself had been diagnosed with lung cancer and had died five weeks later, before the ball could be held. Jeez, not good, I thought. Five weeks? Where’s my old pal ’ Rationalisation’ when you need him?

I didn’t have to ring the doctor before I went to see him for the results. He came to me the day after I’d had the X-rays. It was about four hours ago.

I’d just received a phone call from my wife about getting the road tax done for our daughter’s car, followed by another more tetchy one as she rang again two minutes later for more details from our bank card.

‘Couldn’t you have asked that five minutes ago?’ I muttered irritably. It was probably the last time in my life I’m going to be annoyed about the minutiae in life.

Two minutes later, the door bell sounded. It could have been the tune ‘Happy Birthday’ from the ridiculous chiming set of ring tones I’d bought to annoy Julie a few years ago, or maybe ‘Au Clair De La Lune’. I didn’t notice. I was more concerned about the figure just about discernible through the stained glass. It was Trevor, my doctor. This was not good.

I guessed there was something wrong. He knew there was something wrong. Somehow, small talk about the weather seemed out of place.

‘I don’t know how to say this, Bob.’ I was tempted to point out that if he didn’t know how to do it, perhaps he shouldn’t try. I didn’t: the time for being a smart arse had gone too.

‘You’ve got a mass on your lung . . . it’s malignant.’

Aah, I was right, this was not good. Not good at all. And what was I meant to say? How about: ‘I watched an episode of House a couple of weeks ago, Trev. Guy on there was diagnosed with lung cancer - and it turns out they were wrong. He sued them for millions. Better make sure you’re right on this one, Trev!’

Somehow, that didn’t strike the right tone. I rather think if he rings the doorbell now and says: ‘Sorry, mate, bit of a mistake, there’s nothing wrong with the X-ray at all. Carry on as normal!’, I’d waltz him round the room and open a bottle of my 1983 St Emilion Grand Cru rather than get on the phone to Lawyersrus!

Instead, there was a bit of a chat about CT scans and and discovering whether it was secondary or primary. I wanted to joke that this was no time to discuss schools.

It did, though, seem rather unjust. In my life, I’d had just one puff of a cigarette when I was ten and spent all of the following day throwing up. Punishment enough, it seemed, but no! Lung cancer was meant to affect those who’d smoked cigarettes next to me in pubs all my adult life. I’d always been in favour of the smoking ban in pubs. A pity it was all a little late.

‘I think I’d probably prefer to be alone, Trev.’ What a dreadful line, totally over the top, much too melodramatic, and then I realised it was me saying it. Did I want him to go? I suppose I had to tell my wife.

She didn’t answer her phone, probably cross about my earlier irritability. I tried my brother. The fastest, least personal answering machine message in the world told me to leave a message and get off. I did. I felt that ‘Hi John, maybe - nope, probably - dying, talk later, cheers’ was a bit terse even for his busy world, so I just asked him to call me back.

I noticed my mobile phone was on the blink. This was definitely not my day. At least - unlike my wife and brother - Vodafone answered eventually. The girl at the end of the line, who might or might not have been recording my call for training purposes, sounded remarkably chipper.

‘Whoa, my lovely,’ I was tempted to say, in my most patronising way. ‘I want none of this bonhomie. I’ll have you know I’ve just received news that I could be about to shuffle off the old mortal coil. I could soon be an ex-person.’

I didn’t, of course. I just listened as she told me the nearest store to take the Nokia N95 to. I wondered if they could fix malignant masses on the lung, too.

The world outside the front door seemed awfully normal. The car was just as I left it last night. A weird thought came into my mind about how life - like history - could now be divided into two: BC and AD. Before Confirmation and After Diagnosis.

BC was everything up to Trevor’s arrival; AD is everything since. They’re very different places.

AD - and I’ve only been there five or so hours now - has me looking at the woman pushing the shopping trolley, or the workman shovelling the cafeteria lunch in his mouth, and thinking: ‘So what’s the biggest problem in your life, eh? A pint of milk being the price of a long weekend in Paris, the fact your darts team lost night? Pah!’

There will need to be readjustments. I bumped into an acquaintance at the local chemist where I went to collect a prescription Trevor had given me. And there was the usual means-nothing greeting: ‘Hi, Dickie, all right?’ ‘Yeah, Bob, you?’ ‘Fine.’

Fine? I’m telling him I’m fine! I’m not fine at all. I’m walking and I’m talking, but inside I’m feeling like one of those characters shuffling along in the Night Of The Living Dead. ‘I’m not one of you any more, Dickie . . . the pod has hatched inside me!’

On TV, the hammer still comes down on antiques people didn’t really want to sell in the first place, and C-list celebrities salivate over what a TV chef can do with a chicken leg and bunch of carrots.

It’s all so familiar yet so alien. And outside the rain still comes down.

It reminds me of a conversation I had with a friend when I was about 12. It was chucking it down and we were talking for some reason about funerals. ‘I want it to be raining really hard when it’s mine,’ I said. ‘That way everyone will be miserable with me!’

There was an obvious-flaw in the argument of the 12-year-old me, but I know how he felt. I feel like that now.

So what does the future hold six hours AD? Do I go to the pub and smile and joke and pretend everything’s all right? Do I google ‘malignant masses on the lung’ and scare myself witless?

I’ve told my wife now, but John’s answering machine is still on.

My son Jamie is doing his GCSEs: would knowing affect his chances in the exams?

Should I tell my daughter Claire, the vet, who texted me this morning to ask the results of my tests? And what about Emma, who’s just finished her university finals? She should be enjoying herself, not thinking about me.

There’s much to ponder. Will I sleep tonight? That prescription might help - it was for temazepam. And will there be much pain? I don’t think I’m keen on pain. It has to be said, I’m scared.

[The</a> day I was told I had lung cancer, by the brother of Radio 4’s John Humphrys | Mail Online](<a href=“The day I was told I had lung cancer, by the brother of Radio 4's John Humphrys | Daily Mail Online”>The day I was told I had lung cancer, by the brother of Radio 4's John Humphrys | Daily Mail Online)

ADad · June 16, 2008, 11:29pm

–Bjorn Borg

mominva · June 17, 2008, 5:17pm

Hope things are going well this week.

question_quest · June 17, 2008, 5:36pm

Thinking of you, LTS. Hope all is going well! :)

padad · June 17, 2008, 5:58pm

Illegitimis non carborundum.

Best wishes.

latetoschool · June 17, 2008, 6:06pm

Thank you, it is going, and, I am fighting very hard. Just came back from completing #3 of #5 radiation treatments. It’s getting better…the good news is, no weight loss, counts are good, all other stuff is normal. I am eating, and nothing hurts, and so with the exception of the dreaded but necessary steroids, I am on no meds. Appetite is slowly coming back.

I continue to be very thankful for my work, and am grateful to have important things to do that I care about very much and that keep me busy.

I am looking forward to the day when I can dedicate more resources to helping others battle this and other horrible diseases. I hope that day can come very soon…

Hanna · June 17, 2008, 6:07pm

Still thinking of you, LTS.

SouthJerseyChessMom · June 17, 2008, 6:08pm

LTS- PA Dad said it best, but I had to look it up.
So for those of you out there wondering about the above mentioned quote.

<h2>Illegitimis non carborundum"</h2>

Yes, this means “Don’t let the bastards grind you down”, but it
is not real Latin; it is a pseudo-Latin joke.

“Carborundum” is a trademark for a very hard substance composed
of silicon carbide, used in grinding. (The name “Carborundum” is a
blend of “carbon” and “corundum”. “Corundum” denotes aluminium
oxide, and comes to English from Tamil kuruntam; it is related to
Sanskrit kuruvinda = “ruby”.) "The “-ndum” ending suggests the
Latin gerundive, which is used to express desirability of the
activity denoted by the verb, as in Nil desperandum = “nothing to
be despaired of”; addendum = “(thing) fit to be added”;
corrigendum = “(thing) fit to be corrected”; and the name Amanda,
from amanda = “fit to be loved”).

Illegitimis is the dative plural of illegitimus =
“illegitimate”; the gerundive in Latin correctly takes the dative to
denote the agent. Illegitimus could conceivably mean “■■■■■■■” in
Latin, but was not the usual word for it: Follett World-Wide Latin
Dictionary (Follett, 1967) gives nothus homo for ■■■■■■■ of known
father, and spurius for ■■■■■■■ of unknown father.

The phrase seems to have originated with British army
intelligence early in World War II. It was popularized when U.S.
general Joseph W. “Vinegar Joe” Stilwell (1883-1946) adopted it as
his motto. Various variant forms are in circulation.

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