Don't despair yet, David. For one thing, five-year statistics are, by definition, five years old, and the survival rate is improving all the time. I had Stage IIIB, with 15 out of 17 positive lymph nodes. I was diagnosed 4.5 years ago and finished treatment 3.5 years ago and I'm still here and still *knock wood* cancer free. Also, chemo isn't as bad as it used to be. On one type of chemo, I just slept for two days and was really tired for a couple of more, but that still gave me two good weeks out of three. I took all the anti-nausea medication and was never particularly nauseated. Okay, it's not really a happy! fun! time. The hair falls out, your nails get weird and you get sores in your mouth, but for me it was not the horror people pictured it to be. I was less cheerful about the second half of my chemo, but even with the evil Taxol I still had two good weeks out three. The bad week was just worse. Radiation isn't terrible. You do get more and more tired, but part of that is just having to drive to the hospital for five days a week for six weeks.

I'll send you an e-mail with some tips this weekend.

(Sorry to go on and on about me me me, but I just wanted people to know that it's not as gloomy as they're thinking.)

(Sorry to go on and on about me me me, but I just wanted people to know that it's not as gloomy as they're thinking.)

Thanks, Ginger. That's all very encouraging.

::rubs Ginger's full head of healthy hair for good luck::

I don't know what to do except stop by her house and give her foot rubs.

David, the St. Francis Center, where I did some of my counseling training, was founded on this very thing. Father Wendt, an ambitious young priest, tried just a little too hard to 'do good' for the people he was drawn to serve until a wise woman he was visiting said something along the lines of...'If you want to help me, shut the hell up and rub my feet.'

Ginger, thanks for your insight. My surrogate mom is struggling with horrible images of her grandson's chemo regimen. Ideas that were formed 30 years ago. I tried to say something similar to what you said about how the technology is getting better all the time but I have no personal experience beyond what the survivors in my marathon training group have to say. Your words are beyond encouraging.

And bless your healthy body!

I'm so sorry David. Fuck cancer!!

Ellie is adorable, as is her new outfit!

Ellie is an adorable big girl!

Hec, I'm still vibing the best for Karen. She's lucky to have your suppport.

JZ, best of luck finding a job that is a perfect fit for you.

Fuck cancer indeed!

They've told her, but she really doesn't understand the implications. Which is fine. I know I was when my mother had her first bout of cancer.

Yeah, I'm very glad i was only about 8 when my mom had cancer, I totally didn't get it. Just "Hey, mom's sick, and cool, lots of people are bringing us casseroles for dinner!"

Ellie is so cute and so big!

Yay for Owen! Cashmere, FWIW, what really worked with Annabel was, of all things, buying her a portable potty seat with the Backyardigans characters on it. I'd gotten it just so we could have something to use while traveling, at baseball games, etc. But she was SO excited about her new seat that she wanted to use it all the time, even at home, and she went from kinda-sorta trained to almost perfect overnight.

David, the St. Francis Center, where I did some of my counseling training, was founded on this very thing. Father Wendt, an ambitious young priest, tried just a little too hard to 'do good' for the people he was drawn to serve until a wise woman he was visiting said something along the lines of...'If you want to help me, shut the hell up and rub my feet.'

I'm not familiar with the St. Francis Center, but I have to agree with that philosophy. The patient is the best source of what will help the patient.

Our experience with Hubs's mother when she had her chemo lines up with what Ginger said. We found it wise to wink at dietary restrictions now and then (Hubs's mother was diabetic) in the interest of keeping her energy up.

And, as I mentioned earlier, don't forget that Karen's family also needs care.

Stephanie, that outfit is ADORABLE. She's such a gorgeous little girl.

Yay for Owen! Cashmere, FWIW, what really worked with Annabel was, of all things, buying her a portable potty seat with the Backyardigans characters on it. I'd gotten it just so we could have something to use while traveling, at baseball games, etc. But she was SO excited about her new seat that she wanted to use it all the time, even at home, and she went from kinda-sorta trained to almost perfect overnight.

I think when it clicks, it clicks. I was just so relieved (sorry for the pun). But I had built up a lot of stress and worry about it that that couple ounces of yellow liquid being where it was supposed to be made me want to throw a party.

Ginger, your insight is helpful and encouraging. My friend from high school had her six month appointment after her lumpectomy and she's cancer free. My sister saw her a few weeks ago and she's doing very well. Knowing someone that made it through a rough diagnosis is comforting.