Clematis

Thank you, Kay - you are really an inspiration as a support person!

Thank you! I hope you two are doing well...

Hello, my friends. I think of you all frequently, although I haven't been on the site. However, I have been doing psychotherapy online for four years now and frequently encourage my grieving clients to check out the site for additional support. Grief is so hard... It's been two years since I completed my cancer treatments. In December a year ago I was declared cancer-free, but last year there was something on the breast MRI that appeared to be incidental findings and was too small to figure out if it even was anything. I was sent to radiology for an ultrasound to see if it was anything, but they made me do about 20 mammograms I told them I didn't want, while they tried desperately to stretch the U.S., MRI, and Mammo images into something that might be more cancer, but they couldn't find anything in spite of what seemed to be a diligent attempt to create an image of cancer out of nothing. Cancer was such a terrible experience and the worst part was fighting the inept doctors, in lock-step with arms linked against me. My own PCP said to me in my annual a year ago, "Who are You to question Medical Doctors?" They were so angry with me. I think the real outrage was that I kept challenging what they told me and what they withheld, and at every turn they were wrong and I was right. I decided to skip my annual physical this year, but did the bloodwork, which looked great. Also saw the gyno and podiatrist. Things seem to be fine. When I grumble about the ill-tempered and inept doctors, Helen reminds me that I should get over it, because there is still no reason anyone can come up with - in spite of trying - that would indicate that I have cancer. No sign of it. One thing I did get out of cancer has been a renewal of my athletic life. Originally, it was having read that 150 - 200 minutes of exercise per week would cut the risk of a recurrence in half, and 300 minutes would bring even greater benefits. I have been averaging about 430 for the past two years and it's been so helpful in so many ways. My weight is good, and stable. I have more strength and energy than I have had in years, and my focus and cognitive abilities are better than they have been in a long time. I even have better coordination and balance; not sure why or how. I feel like I ended up making the right choices in picking and choosing the treatments as I did, and really focusing on my diet and exercise as a long term commitment. Losing my dad and my aunt were hard blows, compounded by that car accident, and I don't think the cancer afterwards was a coincidence. But life goes on. Life is stable with Helen, and her COPD is better by way of plenty of loving care, Carda Health and now a SmartVest. I have gotten involved in Model Railroading and joined a local club. Lena just had a health scare, but is fine. Skyrocketing liver enzymes, but after an antibiotic that resolved and she just needs some dental work. My PCP, whom I skipped out on this year professes to practice "Preventative Medicine," but I think that's just early detection. I think the real Preventative Medicine is optimizing one's health via exercise and a plant-based Whole Foods diet. So far, so good! And now it's time for evening exercise... it takes some discipline but it's worth it.

Losing a beloved pet is SO hard, and so often the people around grieving survivors just don't get it. It's a painful truth that our pets just don't live longer, even when they live a long life for their breed. It feels cruel, the way it plays out. I work as a psychotherapist online and I have had so many clients who say that their dog or cat is their soulmate and/or best friend, and the loss of these dear ones is excruciating. No getting around it. But take care of yourself, and remember that "one day at a time" thing. Sometimes it's more like dealing with one minute at a time...

Nono is so beautiful and absolutely adorable - what a loss! I feel for you, to have lost him, and especially after such a short time together. It is heartwarming that you were able to provide a safe and loving home for him at the end of his life.

Losing a beloved pet is SO hard, and the loss can stay with you so long. It's really really sad that pets don't live nearly long enough...

Sounds like a really tough situation. I feel for you. Things are so hard right now for so many people.

That is very sweet, and I bet Tiger and Snuggles both appreciate it. =^. .^=

Hi there - I'm so sorry to hear that you're suffering so much. It's awful. I don't know if you remember me, but I was on the site a lot 5 to 7 years ago after the death of my dad. We were very close and I was his caregiver. Anyway, I wish you the best and hope you can find a way to feel better.

Thanks! I got more good news today; the results of my PET/CT showed no signs of cancer. This means I am determined to be Cancer Free! Yay!

I feel for you - it is so hard to lose a beloved pet. Was this a cat or a dog? Would it help to post a picture?

Another disturbing reality is that the doctors lied to me, and when challenged about this, they defended the deliberate deceptions by telling me that everyone with cancer agrees to anything they are offered, in order to gain any slight advantage. They minimize the negative impact of these proposed treatments and give misleading information about the possible benefits. I stopped taking Herceptin after 6 months because the research shows that the strongest efficacy is in the first 6 months, and after that, patients have increasing damage by the drug with no more benefit, the longer they take it. They wanted me to take it for 12 months, but would not discuss the research about the trials on the length of treatment. I have a friend who took this drug for 5 years, and now she has uterine cancer and something on her pancreas - biopsy results not back yet. It is such a racket.

I sure have learned a lot - and a lot of it is very disturbing, particularly as related to the medical profession. I was stunned to find myself in a position where I had a life threatening condition and was facing a team of angry doctors determined to over treat me by withholding information and doing their best to scare me into destroying my health. I felt like receiving a cancer diagnosis handed me an obligation to blindly do as told, because if I didn't I would be depriving the hospital and providers a LOT of money they felt entitled to. For example, my decision to end chemo when I did, based on my research, cost the hospital at least $360,000. I also refused radiation therapy, because based on my age it was 90% likely to not benefit me. I don't know how much money they lost on that one, but it would have been 20+ treatments. And it would have been needless exposure to radiation for me, because as it turned out, there was no cancer remaining in either breast. I had a breast MRI on 11/22, and it showed no cancer. I have a PET/CT scan this Thursday, and if it is clean as well, I will be declared "cancer free."

Thank you, Kay. I have been detoxing from the cancer treatments and trying to get my feet back under myself again in my life. I am still having physical issues from the chemo and emotionally have been up and down a lot. Sometimes sideways...hahaha! You gotta laugh to keep from crying sometimes. Sometimes, of course, crying is the exact right thing to do, but that's not what I mean. My cancer debacle was just that, and thinking about the shoddy care, medical gaslighting, and incompetence I found enrages and terrifies me. I would never have dreamed that a "team" of doctors would gang up on a cancer patient - and be so deliberately mean - with no real thought to the actual care for that patient - me. The surgeon from my "care team" told me on the phone, "The reason your doctors all treat you like they do is because you're smart, and ask them challenging questions." That is so awful - it's hard to fathom the right words for it, and I have a good vocabulary. Tuesday was the one-year-anniversary of my diagnosis day, and it was hard to figure out how I felt as the date approached. Looking back, it seems more clear that it's just another anniversary of a loss or traumatic event. Ground Zero in learning about grief. For me, this anniversary has a lot of grief in it, as well as the trauma of the treatment and mistreatment. Looking back brings a mix of anger, angst, and pride in myself for doing my own homework/research, finding and keeping on my own path, and maintaining the many health-related alterations I've made to my life. Looking forward, I want to do just that. Move forward. I'm not sure in what direction, but this next year will be about something else - not like the cancer of last year - next year will be something new. I don't know what...I'll keep you posted