<p>I’m thanking you, LTS, for giving me the sensitivity to connect with a stranger. I was picking up a pair of shoes for my d today. The lady behind the counter had the shortest, cutest haircut I’ve seen in a while. I complimented her on it, and she said, “it’s finally growing back.” We went on to talk about how grateful she was to back in her shop, how great she’s feeling, and how lucky. I’ve never met her before, but we shared a nice moment. Without this thread, I probably would have let it go by, and we both would have missed out. Thanks.</p>
<p>I am picturing Ferdinand the Bull, who really would rather be out in a meadow under a cork tree chewing sweet grass.</p>
<p>Go away, Ferdinand, and leave LTS alone.</p>
<p>LTS: Good for you for having the courage to look your enemy in the face. Fear is one of the bull’s strongest tools, so actually facing up to this adversary and seeing him face to face is the most powerful step you could take. Ole!</p>
<p>Riverrunner, my pleasure. I truly do totally understand how some people say that a cancer diagnosis is a gift and a blessing. It has a way of opening doors, eliminating barriers, provoking honesty, and bringing people closer together. Suddenly, too, things are so much more beautiful and valuable, if it’s the smell of fresh flowers or the happiness of sharing with friends and pleasant conversation or a sunrise or a rainy day. When the bull is charging everything has far greater value. </p>
<p>Mythmom, thank you for that, but LOL a very nice CC member just sent to me in my email what this enemy looks like under the microscope. My first thought was (and still is) something like, oh, my. OMG. Dear God, heaven help us. </p>
<p>After I nearly became ill, and recovered, my next thought was, oh, good. I am happy to have this email. Now I can at long last visualize exactly how I’m going to kill it! </p>
<p>I’m still going to see if I can get someone to let me see it live, under a scope, but, I am very glad that I saw static pictures of it first - otherwise I would probably faint, it’s very, very ugly (as are most bad things I suppose).</p>
<p>This may sound a little far out, but on the subject of visualization-- you might want to consider getting hypnosis. </p>
<p>After a very difficult first birth, I had hypnosis before giving birth to #2. It was focused on becoming more atttuned to instinct and working with my body in labor. I am typically a huge skeptic but I must say I went totally under in her office. I had a 3 hour labor virtually painless birth.</p>
<p>I suspect there is hypnosis, guided imagery etc that can help you overwhelm disease, as well.</p>
<p>LTS, just wanted to let you know that a dear friend of mine, who is a breast cancer survivor, will be walking in a cancer “walk” this weekend and she asked for names of dear ones who we wanted her to “carry with her” on this. She is writing names of these on her shirt. Yours will be there…</p>
<p>Well ugly things like bugs, monsters, cancers are scary, repulsive. I am glad you didn’t have to see your adversary live at first. </p>
<p>You are very brave, so I know you can look. The hardest part.</p>
<p>I think the ability to look at what we fear and to name it, give us strength. So what if it’s ugly? At least you know what it is, and can seek the tools to destroy it. I agree with the visualization thing – I do remember reading about how cancer patients use it to help their immune systems. One more thing to try?</p>
<p>Some years ago, PBS aired an unedited knee replacement surgery on a patient with rheumatoid arthritis. When the joint was opened, the untrained eye could immediately recognize the enemy: the bright-yellow diseased tissue that had eaten up the healthy bone. It was clear as day what belonged in the knee and what didn’t. It was extraordinary to watch the surgeon remove it and sew the knee back together. I thought that it must be the most satisfying job in the world to see that ugly monster with the naked eye and destroy it. So visualization makes all the sense in the world to me. The chemo is just another kind of scalpel to slash away at the beast.</p>
<p>LTS…sending cyber strength and fight and a warm smile to go with them. Hope you have a good day.</p>
<p>LTS: Have told H and D&S about your bullfight, and they are shouting their oles as well. All commend and marvel at your bravery.</p>
<p>Thanks to whomever for the PBS Ghost in your Genes info, it was a very fascinating show</p>
<p>Talk about a coincidence!</p>
<p>Two days ago I posted a link to a newspaper article I’d read, in which a person living with cancer described the experience, figuratively, as being like having a bull charging at you.</p>
<p>Then today I started a book - the neurologist Oliver Sacks’ A Leg To Stand On - in which the author encounters not a figurative bull but a real one while hiking by himself on a mountain in Norway. This encounter leaves him with a badly broken leg. At first he fears that he will freeze to death - that he won’t be able to make it down the mountain before night comes and the temperature drops. But then he is found by a father and son who are out hunting. And over time (and this is the bulk of the book) his leg - the one that was badly broken in the encounter with the bull - heals.</p>
<p>Hmmmm . . . .</p>
<p>lts~just saw this thread (guess I’ve been living under a rock to not notice it!!) I am keeping you in my thoughts and prayers!!! You are so brave and strong in your fight, and it is so good that you are verbalizing all that you are feeling, and getting in some good crying time–it will help!!! All the CC’ers are pulling for you!!!
BIG [[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[HUGS]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]] ARE COMING YOUR WAY!!</p>
<p>LatetoSchool -</p>
<p>Saying hello and goodnight and sweet dreams.</p>
<p>Ditto. Take care of yourself. We’re all pulling for you.</p>
<p>I too am still praying for “Leyda Schul.” :)</p>
<p>^^^ Binx,</p>
<p>That’s priceless!</p>
<p>I belong to a little prayer group that meets at someone’s home every Friday to pray the rosary (Catholic here!) and before we begin, we go around the circle with individual prayer intentions. I had not been going lately, but I made it a point to go the last two Fridays to pray for LTS. I have described our dear wonderful LTS and her struggles but never used a name. Now I have a great alias thanks to binx!</p>
<p>LTS and LTSD: CC prayers to lift you both.</p>
<p>Thank you everyone, I appreciate Binx’ alias name and very much appreciate all of the prayers, and kind thoughts and words. Every post that comes here helps to keep me going, especially when the tangible, physical world leaves off, especially when it’s dark outside and there are no more emails to answer and no more telephone calls for the day. </p>
<p>This has been a productive - if at times difficult - week. This evening I attended an annual conference that I have been coming to for several years. It was happy and sad all at the same time; I get to see the same people in person once a year or so, and, I remember so many happy times at this conference - deals made, alliances carefully cultivated, relationships fine-tuned, new friends made. I started to get sad as I hope I am here for the conference next year, as well.</p>
<p>“It’s not impossible” was the most positive statement my (potential) new oncologist would make this week, in response to my inquiry about the possibility of long term survival. Oh well, at least she is honest. That’s about the best I can expect I am sure, since we haven’t done any science together yet. I am scheduled for scans next week, so, I will have her eyes on this problem, and, within the next 24 hours I will make the decision to transfer the fight to the Lombardi cancer center. They have a specific department for lung cancer and the considerable resources of Georgetown University, so, once I resolve one or two final questions that is what I will do. Of course, this also means that I will transfer the balance of my life to this city, which I’m totally fine with. The great state of Florida has been very good to me but I now see that it is not where the balance of my life will be lived, and, it is time to leave. Of course, the operational aspects of that are difficult, as the cancer sets the calendar, and, out of necessity the entire moving and transitional process will be out of my hands. </p>
<p>I also signed the lease on my new offices this week - on Pennsylvania Avenue. LOL. I sincerely hope to be here to use them for longer than the initial lease term! </p>
<p>I also glued together the most important people in my life from their various positions, meaning, my dearest and most valued friends, closest and most trusted business associates, etc., all the persons who make up the front line of my support system now have all met. It was sort of weird watching people get to know each other when they have been hearing of the other people for years etc. and it was a good step to take; I am glad I did it. This way, everyone has met; knows everyone else, the communication lines are wide open and I am relieved of being the primary point of contact for the latest information. Best of all, my support people now have support people. </p>
<p>Physically I feel fantastic - absolutely zero side effects from chemotherapy, and, at the Woodley Park Metro station today I literally ran all the way up the escalator stairs. In high heels. Twice. If you don’t know the escalator I think I counted maybe 80 stairs…but, then, I read somewhere on the internet that if you don’t have any side effects from chemo that probably means it isn’t working…I probably should be a little more selective about what I read…</p>