I'm so sorry, Drew.
'Objects In Space'
Spike's Bitches 41: Thrown together to stand against the forces of darkness
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
Well, fuck. FUCK CANCER! I'm sorry, Drew. That is just sucktastic. {{{{Drew and family}}}}.
Shit. Drew, I'm so sorry.
Oh, shit, ND. That's horrible. I'm so sorry.
Shit, Drew. I'm so sorry. While I don't wish drawn out suffering on anyone, I will say that those "days to live" estimates are often wrong and there are drugs that can really slow the growth of many cancers. It sounds like it might not apply to your father, but Stage 4 is not as gloomy as it used to be. Strength to you and Kristin and your family.
Peace to you and yours, Drew.
Much -ma to your whole family (of whatever sort)
oh fuck! Wow!
{{{{ND and Family}}}
peace~ma for ND, PixK, and ND family.
Fuck Cancer!
Oh, Drew. I am so sorry. Peace and ~ma to you and your family.
My sister is going to call me later tonight with more news. Dad has to decide what he wants to do about treatment. It started in his lungs (never smoked in his life) and them spread to his liver and brain.