See now I don't. I am too busy trying to be strong and happy for everyone that I forget what's inside. Oh ER is never fun. I don't mind early morning rounds or long medical lectres, or even dying patients. But stick me in a crowded ER; I panik. Too many people. Especially when I have to do it on my own. When I first started learnng bit about cancer in med school, they made me do a presentation on Lobular cancer, the type my mom had, luckily I'm not offended by stuff like that. Oh and I got my result back in a week. Find out if I am a carrier of the faultly gene. But, Stay positve, go for screening and hopefully I wont develop it. Dosn't guarantee I will or wont get cancer, it just shoves me further into the high risk bracket. But I'll be damned if I don't fight! No silly disease is going to hold me back! :lol:
Again, I just wanted to say that your approach is so admirable. Good for you - and I will be thinking of you next week. *hugs*
I lost my sister 2 years, October 31, to cancer, she was only 34! She was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer that is uncommon for a Caucasian female, and fought a tough 3 year battle with the disease before losing the battle. She was an active Firefighter, the driving force behind the MADD campaign in our Province, and was a lifeguard and teacher within one of our post-secondary schools, training new firefighting recruits. She was also an active member in teaching children fire safety. She taught me a lot about myself and life in general, proving it didn't matter how long one walked on the soils of earth, but what one can accomplish during this time. She showed me strength, courage and determination in times of weakness and sorrow. She was given a firefighters funeral, with a full honor guard, and though I miss her and not a day goes by that I don't think about her, I am proud to have had her as a sister, and to see the lives of many that she touched. She will always be my hero!
My mom died in 1998 - pancreatic cancer. She was only 44. I was 12 then, my sister 10. It hurt to see her in the hospital, but it hurt even more to hear the pain in my dad's voice when he woke us up in the middle of the night, saying "She'll die." We were in Denmark for the summer holidays, and she was with us for 2 weeks bbecause she wanted to spend those weeks with us, she wanted to be strong, and hell, she was! The long journey up there exhausted her, but then we were finally there, at the beach, where we had used to go on vacations for many years, and I think she was in a strange way happy to be there - she probably knew that it would be her last holidays with us. But then she got worse, and my dad had to bring her back to Germany, leaving my sister and me with friends in Denmark. In the hospital she urged him to go back, and he returned for us. But then the phone call came from the hospital, telling him that things were getting worse, and he woke us up, and we couldn't go back to sleep after that. It wasn't even half an hour later that we met in the kitchen again, and knew we had to leave now. No waiting. Just packing things and leaving a note for our friends. My dad drove all night, and we got to see her one last time. She died on the 4th of August 1998. I'm not the one to show my emotions often, and after the funeral, I never cried at the graveyard again - for 9 years. It was on All Saints' day this year, that I sat down beside her grave and cried. I don't believe in life after death. Sometimes I wish I did. EDIT: Today would be her 53rd birthday. Just called her twin brother to wish him a happy birthday. I realized that I never asked him what it feels like to lose your twin...
Last Wednesday (Nov 7) was the second anniversary of my uncle's death. He had a mild heart attack and then got lung cancer, and in July 2005 was diagnosed with a brain tumour and was given six months to live. He was 49 when he died. I was hoping he would live to at least see Christmas, but as the months went on his headaches became increasingly worse, and he had to be taken to the hospital. I saw him a few days before he died and I swear it was like looking at a skeleton. It was horrible, and I felt like crap because I couldn't do anything to help him. I was healthy and alive, and he's in the bed wasting away. He died on the Monday afternoon after waking up for a brief period the night before. I remember my aunt literally screaming at the doctors to pull the plug, but obviously they can't because it's considered murder without the patient's consent. I've dreamt of him twice since his death, and I wear a LIVESTRONG band in his memory.
Yesterday, an employee of my cousin's family died of pancreatic cancer. She was only 33. What was sad about it is that pancreatic cancer is so hard to diagnose. Usually, it gets diagnosed at the last stages when all is too late. She was sick for less than two months and was in hospital the last two weeks. It was kind of depressing actually since she was so young.
My grandad died of liver cancer earlier this year, one of my friend's mum died from cancer on my birthday,she was only in her 40s... and my mum was diagnosed last year, but at the moment is "in the clear" Cancer is such a horrid thing, I feel for anyone who has it or has had to deal with it in their family or friends.