His parents (Kevin's brother and sil) are some amazing people. Their first son has something, can't recall what. Then the triplets going through that. Then about a year after that they decided to adopt a baby fr Guatamala I think. And now they are fostering children! I couldn't do it, but they have the it factor to deal with everything.Damn! Damn damn damn. Son of gun Windy. That's hard.
Wow, that's powerful, and amazing.Not good morning America, CBS morning but here is the link.
Note To Self: One woman's story of strength in the face of "unbearable" loss
The goal with her cancer fight was to get it in remission. She got really close, twice. She went every Sunday for labs, to check her CA-125. If the number dropped, it was "working". Sunday's were hard. I never knew what the phone call was gonna be.Did she think she was going to beat it after she fought it for so long?
Can't imagine watching your mom, or like with Weezer, your dad fighting like that. I'm just emotionally shot right now. Between my wife having to do those ivs, MBRO, and all the posts.The goal with her cancer fight was to get it in remission. She got really close, twice. She went every Sunday for labs, to check her CA-125. If the number dropped, it was "working". Sunday's were hard. I never knew what the phone call was gonna be.
One of the chemo's literally almost killed her. She had a reaction and it took Leslie (her chemo nurse) six hours to get Mom stabilized. She said she never had a patient survive that took more than two hours.
Anyway, each new chemo was a chance that it could be "the one". So I guess yeah, she held out hope that even after the 10th kind of chemo, number 11 would be the one.
Oh dude, in the last few days with mom (she was at home with hospice....had been in the hospital and desperately just wanted to be at home), I had somehow managed to convince myselft that I loved her enough that I could share in the "relief" of her finally coming face to face with God. She fought so damn hard, for so damn long. And when she was gone, almost midnight, I ran down the steps and out the front door and stood in her front yard, in the pouring rain, screaming to God "I'm not ready!" over and over and over.I'd be lying if I said I wasn't selfish in the moment. I wasn't ready to lose him, but it wasn't my choice.
It's a massive amount of suck.Can't imagine watching your mom, or like with Weezer, your dad fighting like that. I'm just emotionally shot right now. Between my wife having to do those ivs, MBRO, and all the posts.
Doesn't matter, but as much as he loved being here and even his custom title for a while said something about being "addicted to VN"..I wondered by his absence if he knew he was worse than he was letting us know.I looked up the cancer MBRO posted that he had when it was first diagnosed and it was mentioned that even with treatment expectancy to live was up to 18 months -- He may have known that, but knowing MBRO he was going to go out fighting
Yeah, dad passed away June of 2016, from liver cancer. A year later I was getting my liver transplant at Vanderbilt. I was actually diagnosed with cirrhosis first. Then we found out he had it as well. From there, his turned to cancer. It all happened so, so fast. With his age, and his other health problems, they said he couldn't be a transplant patient. I remember being so angry. And when I had my own transplant, I remember seeing other transplant patients who looked older, and I would wonder why that couldn't have been him. I think that hurt was more than the physical hurt I was feeling from the transplant itself.Oh dude, in the last few days with mom (she was at home with hospice....had been in the hospital and desperately just wanted to be at home), I had somehow managed to convince myselft that I loved her enough that I could share in the "relief" of her finally coming face to face with God. She fought so damn hard, for so damn long. And when she was gone, almost midnight, I ran down the steps and out the front door and stood in her front yard, in the pouring rain, screaming to God "I'm not ready!" over and over and over.
Sorry. It'll be 4 years in February. I remember every detail like it was last night.
Don't be sorry. I appreciate your willingness to share and talk about it. It's an awful topic but also mind opening to how to deal with it or to think what out friends and family go through.Oh dude, in the last few days with mom (she was at home with hospice....had been in the hospital and desperately just wanted to be at home), I had somehow managed to convince myselft that I loved her enough that I could share in the "relief" of her finally coming face to face with God. She fought so damn hard, for so damn long. And when she was gone, almost midnight, I ran down the steps and out the front door and stood in her front yard, in the pouring rain, screaming to God "I'm not ready!" over and over and over.
Sorry. It'll be 4 years in February. I remember every detail like it was last night.
That's probably accurate. I remember being concerned after not seeing him after awhile around Thanksgiving but I don't think I was prepared to actually ever read what Joe posted.Doesn't matter, but as much as he loved being here and even his custom title for a while said something about being "addicted to VN"..I wondered by his absence if he knew he was worse than he was letting us know.
I'm that way.