The colon operation is coming soon, very soon (well, it feels very soon!), and I’ve got another doctor to see today, so he can do whatever it is he does, making ready for surgery. I have a whole posse of doctors and can’t keep track of them.
As the day approaches, I find I’m losing my nerve. Am I gonna be doctoring for the rest of my life? Will I ever get back to normal?
And after the colon cancer operation, I have a broken hip that has to be seen to.
Please keep me in your prayers.
It’s far better to get rid of that cancer, than to deal with what would happen if you didn’t get rid of it. You’ve ticked a lot of boxes off the to do list. No, it won’t be fun to have this surgery, but it will open the door to better health in the future. You’ve made a lot of progress, already.
I’m just not having a good day, morale-wise.
Fully understandable. I never mean to suggest that what you are going through is a walk in the park. It isn’t and you’ve taken more than your share of hits over the last year. During the most challenging moments of my life, there have been plenty of times when I was discouraged and felt like there was no hope of improvement. But the clock/calendar is unrelenting and time marches on, with or without us.
It’s April 15th, and soon it will be May 15th. While it’s not health related, there are some big unknowns in my life right now, some of which are beyond my control. At least one of these will almost undoubtedly be resolved by May 15, but no matter what, I plan on being here on May 15, and whatever happens, I will keep on living every day, to the fullest of my abilities.
I came very near to dying, in my mid teens. I defied the odds, and survived, albeit in a fairly hobbled up state. I have distinct memories of taking a walk, early in my recovery, less than half of a block, either way, and that was a major accomplishment. The next 6 months of my life were like coming out from under a huge shadow. I went from hobbled over, protecting a huge incision site which was still healing, to becoming more physically and socially active than I had ever been in my life, in a period of 6 months.
Churchill wisely stated that success is never final, and no truer words have ever been spoken, but we can make a series of successes which will propel us towards a better future.
The only way I get through my every day, is to keep track of the successes, and accomplishments. If I can’t change something by acting in the present, I endeavor to put it out of my mind until such time that I can make an effective change.
That’s happening right now, today. I have one of the largest single transactions of my life, paralyzed, due to actions beyond my control. I’m frustrated, but all I can do is ride it out. Worrying won’t change it, neither will anger. I do not yet know the outcome, and a lot of money is in suspended animation until this resolves. I don’t like it, but I’m not going to allow it to ruin my day, week, or month.
The crux of the matter comes down to control, and understanding what we can, and cannot control is key to dealing with our own selves. I used to hate riding in airliners. Why? Because I’m a pilot, damnit, and I want to see what’s ahead and be the guy flying the plane. I used to sit up during each landing, my feet spread as if they were on the rudder pedals, and I flew that 727 in, from passenger row 17. 🙂 But when I’m in the passenger cabin, I’m not the pilot, and I have to trust the guy in the blue uniform. I had to learn to do that, and not mentally try to control that which was not mine to control.
This disease came along, and has robbed you of control. That has to be frustrating. So, what control do you have? You can utilize the talents of the medical professionals who are treating you. You can take note of terms used and learn more about them from reliable Internet sources. You can deal with this in an informed fashion and perhaps feel a bit more in control.
At the end of the day, you will get through this, so the best advice I can offer is to look forward to your recovery and start enjoying it right now.
You know we’re all keeping you in prayer. You’ve already come through so much, and you’ll come through the rest as well. Yes, I know, as the old song says, “[You’re] sick and tired of being sick and tired.” But eventually it will all be done and you’ll be in much better shape at last. Maybe you should give yourself a medal — or at least a gold star — for every procedure and/or doctor visit you’ve come through. And after every so many “survivor” stars (you decide how many), you get a reward … ice cream? an extra cigar? a night at the movies? throwing darts at a picture of your most-loathed politician?
Meanwhile, yes, we’re all holding you in prayer. And remember: your aunt-the-nun would tell you to “offer it up.” She’d tell you that you can use all your suffering, including low morale, as a prayer in union with Christ’s suffering in an offering to the Father. That’s a very powerful form of prayer.
Thank you for the reminded, Phoebe. That’s just what Aunt Betty would say.
Praying daily for you and Patty. I was diagnosed with Stage-4 cancer in my back from Prostate cancer in summer of 2024. I did all they told me to do (strong pills and strong shots). I also started taking Fenbendazole on my own that attacks parasites. In December the PET Scan showed no cancer and my PSA was 0.0 – Praise the Lord Jesus!! Now instead of a doctor visit every month, my next appointment isn’t until the end of August. I pray the future holds the same results for you, Lee. A time again with no doctors and no sickness. With God all things are possible.
Thanks for that, whoever you are.