Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Educate thyself.

Little things are getting to me lately. I don't know why- because they will still go on after I'm gone. I catch myself being more sensitive about comments than I used to be. For instance- I told my Dad about wanting to take the girls for a little vacation this summer even though we really shouldn't financially do it. My Dad's response was "Well, Vera won't even remember the trip." I know what he meant. We'd had this conversation before about affording a trip to Disney, but going when Vera was 4 or 5 because it kinda seemed that the 'Magic' would be lost on her.
"But I will." I told him. I know he felt like a turd after that. It wasn't my intention to make him feel bad but I just left it there.

A friend recently made an observation "That Doctor's appointment really messed with your head didn't it?"

Uh, yea. I guess you could say that. When all signs point to 'You have a year to live- good luck making your memory last for your two young children' it tends to stick in your brain... EVERY. WAKING. MOMENT.
It has rocked me to the core. How the f@#k could it NOT? I look in the mirror every morning wondering what I can do today that will save me?

My husband is in some kind of denial I think. He reads... A LOT. Always has. But has he done one friggin' ounce of research on what I've got? Nope. So when I talk to him about procedures or whatever else- I have to sit down and E.X.P.L.A.I.N. it to him. Maybe it's too much to ask. Maybe his books are his escape. But COME ON!! What does he know? Less than YOU READING THIS. If he was sick, I'd probably know more about his diagnosis than he did.

I don't know what the hell I want other than time. I want to freeze it. I wish Vera would sleep all cuddled up with me. I wish Iris wouldn't fight with me. I wish I'd had the girls 8 years ago so I'd have had more time with them. So they might remember their mommy. I don't WANT to write letters for them to open on special days. I WANT TO BE THERE. I bought a bunch of stationery with envelopes but I don't want to do it. I just look at those boxes. And that damned journal that I 'should' be keeping.

I don't even know how to scream loud enough.


  1. Oh, Rachel. Your prayers are with my at every Mass I attend and every rosary I pray. Who knows what the next year holds, but your voice is awesome now. Thanks again for sharing your fight with your family and your friends here.

  2. I don't even know what to say, other than I wish I could stop time for you. I wish cancer didn't exist. I wish I could do anything for you.

  3. Don't worry about people's comments or what they think. Live life now, as if tomorrow is your last day. But know that it won't be, because you are going to fight, Fight, FIGHT!

  4. I read some of your older posts and I read where a doctor called it colon cancer originating in the appendix. This is WRONG WRONG WRONG! "Treating appendix cancer like colon cancer IS a bad thing. A very bad thing.

    Appendix cancer does not look like colon cancer, and it does not act like colon cancer. It does not live where colon cancer lives. It needs to be treated very differently than colon cancer.

    Local doctors have been treating appendix cancer like colon cancer for the past forty years -- with uniformly bad results. Why do they do this? Because all they have to offer locally -- and perhaps in their insurance networks -- are treatments for colon cancer.

    It's like this ... you go to the store with $10, needing to buy a pair of socks. The clerk grabs your $10, and hands you a pair of underwear. You say, "But I don't need underwear! I need socks!"

    The clerk says, "Underwear is what you get, because underwear is what we have. Underwear is the perfect thing to put on your feet ... just treat your feet as if they were your bee-hind."

    Run, run like the wind to a surgeon who knows something about appendix cancer." It CAN bwew cured. But only by a specialist who has many cures under his belt.

  5. Hi Rachel I just found your blog reading someone else's. All I can say I will keep you in my prayers and thoughts. OH and if you want to shout scream stomp your feet whatever. Just do it.I have a few times since learning I have breast cancer. If anyone doesn't like it. OH WELL!! I will be following your blog now...
    Be Blessed Alli XX