May 07, 2010
Is That All You Have?
As many of you know by now, about two months ago, my mother was diagnosed with an aggressive and freakazoid strain of breast cancer that was hyper aggressive and resistant to many of the standard methods of combating it. In fact, she had received a pathology report last week that had stated that the cancer, even after surgery, had almost certainly spread to her brain, bones, blood, and vital organs. In essence, she was told she would not be here this time next year.
Needless to say, that was some tough news, but she (along with my father, a man raised by a man who fled on foot at the age of 4 in the 1930s to escape Nazi tyranny, only to fight it a few years later) raised all of us to be humble, thankful for what we have, fight, lead from the front and think of others before yourself, never quit, be fearless, protect those who are weak and small, and give adversity and darkness the prison goatse treatment when confronted with it. So, what did she do? First, she told all of us there will be no sadness. And secondly, she sought a second opinion and second round of tests from an oncologist trained and mentored at a clinic that is the best in the fucking world.
And what did the second round of tests reveal? Well, she still had cancer, but it had not spread to her vital organs, bones, blood, etc. It was a treatable Stage Three, which means that with radiation and chemotherapy, she will be damn near 99% cancer free come Christmas time. While none of us are naive enough to believe that her treatment will be easy and complication free, she is upbeat, ready, and willing to do what is necessary to have her natural hair back come this time next year. And this news was the best news we could have heard, especially my fat and overprotective ass, especially as Mother's Day approaches.
And yes, my family and I are thankful. We are thankful that she was confronted with the retarded half brother strain of this cancer and not the A-Team version. We are thankful that (hopefully) The Big Kahuna In The Sky felt it was not her time. We are thankful that she will (hopefully) be here next year. And we are thankful that we live in a free country, one which (for now) allowed her to seek treatment in a rapid fashion and not be put on a waiting list for rationing.
As for the cancer, I have a few words for you. But first,
*lights Opus X cigar*
*makes and drinks Bombay Martini*
*makes and drinks second Bombay Martini*
*finishes cigar*
*eats a bacon wrapped bacon sandwich on a bed of bacon with a side of bacon*
*Brushes teeth*
*Clears throat*
more...
Needless to say, that was some tough news, but she (along with my father, a man raised by a man who fled on foot at the age of 4 in the 1930s to escape Nazi tyranny, only to fight it a few years later) raised all of us to be humble, thankful for what we have, fight, lead from the front and think of others before yourself, never quit, be fearless, protect those who are weak and small, and give adversity and darkness the prison goatse treatment when confronted with it. So, what did she do? First, she told all of us there will be no sadness. And secondly, she sought a second opinion and second round of tests from an oncologist trained and mentored at a clinic that is the best in the fucking world.
And what did the second round of tests reveal? Well, she still had cancer, but it had not spread to her vital organs, bones, blood, etc. It was a treatable Stage Three, which means that with radiation and chemotherapy, she will be damn near 99% cancer free come Christmas time. While none of us are naive enough to believe that her treatment will be easy and complication free, she is upbeat, ready, and willing to do what is necessary to have her natural hair back come this time next year. And this news was the best news we could have heard, especially my fat and overprotective ass, especially as Mother's Day approaches.
And yes, my family and I are thankful. We are thankful that she was confronted with the retarded half brother strain of this cancer and not the A-Team version. We are thankful that (hopefully) The Big Kahuna In The Sky felt it was not her time. We are thankful that she will (hopefully) be here next year. And we are thankful that we live in a free country, one which (for now) allowed her to seek treatment in a rapid fashion and not be put on a waiting list for rationing.
As for the cancer, I have a few words for you. But first,
*lights Opus X cigar*
*makes and drinks Bombay Martini*
*makes and drinks second Bombay Martini*
*finishes cigar*
*eats a bacon wrapped bacon sandwich on a bed of bacon with a side of bacon*
*Brushes teeth*
*Clears throat*
more...
Posted by: eddiebear at
12:37 PM
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