Ginger's suggestions certainly helped me, for what that is worth.

ita, I wish I had something better to say than 'I'm sorry,' but you and your mom (and the rest of your family) will be in my thoughts.

I do have some suggestions that seem to help people have an easier time with chemo, if you'd like me to send them to you.

Ginger's suggestions certainly helped me, for what that is worth.

I love my Buffistas.

ita, I'm sorry. Best wishes to you and all your family.

Thanks, Ginger. I'd love to hear anything. My mother has been told to expect a really rough time, and there's no way she'll be up and driving, I don't think before her first session.

ita, I'm so sorry to hear about the diagnosis. But being there emotionally is just as important as being there to "do" stuff.

My mother has been told to expect a really rough time

I wish people wouldn't do this. Her doctors can probably assess her recovery from surgery pretty well, but no one can predict her reaction to chemo. I don't think it helps going in believing it's going to be terrible. It's frequently not.

I send you something today, ita !

I was just reading David Rakoff's book Half Empty, and he talks about a thing called defensive pessimism, where people figure out the worst-case scenario, but then make plans to avoid it or deal with it, but it sounds like the kind of thing that's only natural to a certain group of people, and probably hardly any of the other people learn how to do it. So anyway, I wonder if the people who say she'll (or anyone will) have a rough time (with anything) are naturally defensive pessimists, who think it's a good idea to plan for the worst case, so you can either implement those plans and be OK, or be pleasantly surprised if it doesn't come to pass.

My mother does not need defensive pessimism. She's like my sister (and kinda unlike me). She needs positivity around her. She believes what people with credentials (academic or trusted emotionally) tell her. It's her way.

It's interesting -- I was trying to convince my father about how GPS worked (or didn't). It took me fifteen minutes to dislodge my father's convictions. About five for my sister, and thirty seconds for my mother. If I tell her I know how GPS works, she believes me, because it's computers and I know more about them than she does.

So, in short, doctors need to be actually realistic with her. Because she will take them at their word, if she trusts them enough to put her life in their hands (not that she trusts easily--but when she does, it's pretty complete).

it sounds like the kind of thing that's only natural to a certain group of people, and probably hardly any of the other people learn how to do it

I've heard it called catastrophic thinking, too. I think I learned it as a kid, defensively, when it came to my mom's health. So now it's natural for me to, for example, get all the way through planning Stephen's funeral and the first few months without him if he's really late coming home and it's bad weather or something.

It sounds morbid, and it sometimes feels awful while I'm doing it, but afterwards, when the worst hasn't come to pass, I know I could handle it (or I've convinced myself I could, anyway) if it did.

So, in short, doctors need to be actually realistic with her.

Whatever works.