I didn't expect to be here with you now and further into 2019 - and it's just amazing that I am. So to all my local followers and to those who stumble on this blog, I wish you a very happy time this season of LED lights and excessive eating.
Tuesday 18 December 2018
Thursday 19 July 2018
Seven years and counting ......
Tonight I will raise a glass of red wine and drink to the health and long life of the main who ultimately saved my life by embarking on the surgery to remove two lobes of my lungs.
For all his study, his skill, his devotion to a career that few would wish for, his experience and his undoubted expertise, I give grateful thanks to Good (and that's not a typo).
"Here's to you and our time together ...."
Cheers!
For all his study, his skill, his devotion to a career that few would wish for, his experience and his undoubted expertise, I give grateful thanks to Good (and that's not a typo).
"Here's to you and our time together ...."
Cheers!
Wednesday 9 May 2018
Not only, but also
I've just read on Facebook a post from someone I know who was told her cancer would kill her and in the not too distant future - in other words to use the phrase that is bandied about far to freely these days: terminal cancer.
Refusing to accept the terminal bit, she begged the oncologists to give her as much treatment as her body could stand. She's had countless rounds of chemo, three occasions of surgery, some radiotherapy; other treatments too numerous to mention and is about to start imunotherapy to be sure to be sure. Today she posted that her onologist has told her that she is cured unless proved otherwise!
We must never say "terminal" - it's a ridiculous word given that we are all "terminal" from the moment we're born. In my experience there are two types of people: those who when told their cancer is terminal surrender themselves to the arms of the oncologists without questioning, without querying, without learning, without taking responsibility; basically without hope. Then there are the others, like this friend of mine, who regard the news as a personal challenge, a mountain to be climbed, a project to be carried out, an education to be acquired and a life to be regained. No prizes for guessing who survives.
So, would it just not be sensible, instead of focusing on a worst case, to deluge newly diagnosed patients with tales of all those who have successfully conquered their afflictions and lived to tell the tale? Methinks outcome statistics could be greatly improved by just that culture change.
Refusing to accept the terminal bit, she begged the oncologists to give her as much treatment as her body could stand. She's had countless rounds of chemo, three occasions of surgery, some radiotherapy; other treatments too numerous to mention and is about to start imunotherapy to be sure to be sure. Today she posted that her onologist has told her that she is cured unless proved otherwise!
We must never say "terminal" - it's a ridiculous word given that we are all "terminal" from the moment we're born. In my experience there are two types of people: those who when told their cancer is terminal surrender themselves to the arms of the oncologists without questioning, without querying, without learning, without taking responsibility; basically without hope. Then there are the others, like this friend of mine, who regard the news as a personal challenge, a mountain to be climbed, a project to be carried out, an education to be acquired and a life to be regained. No prizes for guessing who survives.
So, would it just not be sensible, instead of focusing on a worst case, to deluge newly diagnosed patients with tales of all those who have successfully conquered their afflictions and lived to tell the tale? Methinks outcome statistics could be greatly improved by just that culture change.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)