Starting Radiation Again Soon

Sadly, you’re not looking at a baby belly… this is a tumor-filled belly 😩 The last couple of months have been incredibly challenging. Just as I was starting to feel a little stronger a few weeks after surgery in August, other symptoms began to show up or worsen, and have only gotten more difficult to cope with since then.

I had scans in early October which showed continued progression. I haven’t been able to do much for integrative treatments in several months now because my body screams a hard NO!! whenever I try. I do push, because I want this stuff to work, I want to heal, but there has been no clear payoff with anything lately.

I have literally begged and pleaded with surgeons and other doctors to help me: specifically with a very large liver mass. Every single consult and plea has been met with a closed door, and sadly, little to no compassion. I had begged the surgeon in August to do everything he possibly could while he had me opened up, but he said he would only take the largest mass, and then we would discuss further interventions after I’d had some time to recover. However, when that time came, I received a hard No to any further care from him. I’ve consulted with multiple specialities and surgeons across different health care systems. None will help me. They see me as too high risk and a lost cause without much time left.

The only conventional provider I can find who is willing to try anything on the large liver mass is my radiation oncologist. I am set to start proton beam radiation this coming week, and the treatment course is expected to take about a month. I have no idea what to expect, but because of the large size and location, as well as involvement of the inferior vena cava, the rad onc is worried about how sick I could get. Idk how much I’ll be able to eat, keep down, detox, or digest… I already have terrible abdominal pain and pressure, and because of the restricted blood flow in the IVC, I get extremely short of breath, weak, with heavy, painful, shaky legs any time I bend at the waist or take even 2 stairs. Lymph and blood flow are restricted below the liver, so I have a lot of fluid retention, lymphedema, and more nerve pain now. Many mornings are spent on the couch writhing in pain for hours as I try to deal with the severe radiating pain down my leg, in my low back, and through my whole abdomen. Sadly, nothing really works to alleviate the pain.

What’s probably one of the hardest things to deal with is knowing I have a bunch of integrative tools at my disposal, but my body simply won’t tolerate them anymore. When I push, I’m met with horrible reactions that last days and only result in further tumor swelling/growth.

Needless to say, I have been very lost and simply incapable of doing much more than trying my damnedest to survive each day. Life barely feels real anymore.

I have SO many negative emotions toward certain providers and their lies, misinformation, inflammatory statements, and omission of extremely critical information over the last 6 years. I am working to process all of this, because I know it isn’t doing me any good. As both a patient and provider though, it makes me completely disgusted with the way conventional oncology is run in our country. There have been some angels in this hell, but unfortunately it isn’t the norm.

Six years in, and there are very few stones I’ve left unturned. Yet here I am, fighting for my life harder than I ever have, with seemingly few options remaining. I still believe, somehow, someway, there IS a path to true healing for me. I don’t know what it is. My senses don’t perceive it. But my heart and soul believe.

I don’t know what the next month will bring with treatment, or if I’ll have the capacity to keep everyone updated. Honestly, right now, I can Barely take care of my Very basic needs each day. Thank you in advance for your understanding, prayers, and support.

2 Weeks Post-Op

It’s been 2 weeks since my big surgery. The 7 day hospital stay was extremely rough, and recovery at home has been no picnic. I am slowly beginning to feel more human again, and am starting to be able to eat larger portions of food. Pain management has been a struggle, but is no surprise.

In total, I had 4 larger tumors removed: 1 from my vulva, 1 from the back of my right shoulder, 1 from my right gluteal muscle near the hip, and another very large (approx 16cm) one from the left lobe of my liver. In order to remove the large liver mass, I lost the remaining segment of my left liver, which contained around 40 nodules in total.

I woke up with an NG tube, the epidural they placed pre-op, a foley, a wound drain from my glute, countless bruises and punctures, 2 IVs in addition to my 2 picc lines, and 4 new, large incisions… not to mention all the extra cords for continuous cardio-respiratory monitoring. On post-op day #5, I had to have another wound drain placed in my abdomen due to fluid collection around the liver surgical site. This huge pain in my A stayed in place for 5 days until I was finally able to remove it.

As I stated prior to surgery, the plan here was “palliative,” so there was a good amount of stuff left behind, which I have continued to struggle to process, not aided by the pain those spots are causing. All of the pathology reports mentioned “Therapy-associated changes are present in the background” in the resected tumors. This means that the integrative treatments I’ve been doing did Something, but unfortunately, not enough (yet).

I honestly don’t know what else to say right now, as I’m simply trying to make it through the days with the pain and physical limitations, and spend quality time with Brandon and the kids. I am very tired and struggle to get or stay comfortable. So I do my best to support my body through recovery, unsure what my next steps will be. It’s incredibly difficult to maintain a positive attitude and strong spirit when the “experts” see and treat you like a ticking time bomb. But they are not me. They are not God. I am doing my very best to block out the negative noise and focus on my determination to live and heal. This isn’t to say there haven’t been a LOT of tears as I work through the grief and many other emotions.

Thank you for all of the prayers, well wishes, cards, gifts, and care. Once again, I’m sorry I can’t respond to every outreach. I/we appreciate you all ❤️‍🩹

Before: Front abdomen, with left liver mass pulling everything to the left

Before: Abdomen from side, looking pregnant 😔. The left liver mass was pushing my ribs far out, separating them, and separating my sternum. The nerve pain was terrible and it was putting excruciating strain on my back. It was also squishing my stomach like a pancake, so I hadn’t been able to eat much in months.

Morning after surgery, NG tube in place and barely able to move

The abdominal drain they sent me home with

Goodbye, abdominal drain! 👋 This thing was such a pain to get and have, and it didn’t want to go peacefully 😣

After: These abdominal incisions get bigger every time 😔

After: Glute spot (not pictured: drain puncture site)

Another Major Surgery Coming Up

I’ll be having Major surgery this coming Monday to deal with a number of tumors that have been causing severe, long-standing problems. I’m still healing from the scalp surgery and skin graft, but am in dire need of more surgery… Three different surgeons will be operating on me, in 4 different areas, but I will still be closed up with numerous masses remaining that they unfortunately won’t remove.

I have an extremely large mass on the left lobe of my liver that has been restricting my ability to eat for months, as it’s pressing directly against my stomach. My ribs are flaring and separating, muscles and nerves stretching and pulling apart, spine/ribs/back/muscles being strained, and I cannot get or stay comfortable in really any position.

An orthopedic surgeon is planning to remove a large and bothersome mass from my glute, and another from the back of my shoulder. A gyn-onc will be removing a very sensitive mass on my vulva.

There are numerous other masses in the abdomen and pelvis that the hepatobiliary surgeon does not feel are appropriate to remove right now due to increased risk of complications. Despite the fact they are all causing pain and symptoms, and they will be cutting my entire abdomen open, this surgery is viewed as simply palliative by modern medicine.

We are struggling immensely with the weight, stress, grief, anxiety, frustration, helplessness, and anger of all of this. I have been working SO UNBELIEVABLY HARD for SO LONG to heal. From February to June I was doing daily IV infusions between home and my integrative physician’s clinic. Doing so many therapies it would make your heads spin.. many of them helping me feel better and giving us hope that we were finally moving in the right direction. But somehow it all became too much and rather than helping me heal and feel better, tumor site pain suddenly picked up significantly, and the more I did, the more the pain and tumor swelling progressed. So I unfortunately had to pull back on almost everything in June, and have the scalp masses removed because I could barely sleep from severe pain anymore. I still haven’t been able to resume most of the therapies due to worsening of already severe tumor site pain each time I try again.

So now I’m in this place where the surgery will alleviate some suffering, but possibly not enough that will allow me to resume any of the treatments that were previously helping me.

No one in conventional medicine sees an answer for me. I’m struggling to get requested consults or considerations for newer or less invasive/less toxic treatments that could help me, but they’ll happily offer me chemo that has terrible odds of working and fantastic odds of killing me. The conventional oncology system is broken in our country. They seem to have zero interest in trying to uncover the true root causes, and instead spend billions trying to find new ways to treat the symptoms (tumors) rather than solving the underlying causes and how to reverse them while healing the patient as a whole. I shouldn’t have to spend nearly every waking hour of my life doing my own research, paying thousands upon thousands of dollars out of pocket for every integrative consult and therapy, and experimenting on myself to try to survive. I am not blaming any one institution here; it is Everywhere in our country (and many other countries as well). This isn’t to say I’m ungrateful for the treatments I have needed, but if true root causes were researched the way pharmaceuticals are, recurrences and stage IV terminal diagnoses would be nothing like what they are today.

It seems to me now that many people see me as a lost cause. As a story character whose fate was sealed with the original diagnosis. But I don’t, nor have I ever, seen myself that way. What I do see and hear and feel (deeply) is the fear and preconceived notions that people (typically providers) have about me. I am extremely sensitive to people talking to me and making treatment decisions as if my ending has already been written. I have plenty enough fear and grief already. I know the odds are stacked against me. But that doesn’t mean I don’t still believe in myself or in miracles.

We are struggling immensely with all of this. Despite all we’ve been through, it unfortunately just seems to continue to get harder. I have extremely limited physical capacity right now, mental capacity is beyond its maximum between the severe pain and stress, and I need to do an insane amount of preparation for surgery and my hospital stay. My body wants to rest but cannot find a way to get comfortable to do so, and my heart just wants to be with Brandon and the kids, but my mind pulls me in a million directions while the pain and debilitating fatigue are screaming at me no matter what I do. Brandon continues to work full-time and try to carry me, the kids, the house, and everything else.

We appreciate your kind words, prayers, and support, but please understand we are drowning and oftentimes trying to respond to even a quick message is just too much for us right now. Please understand it is Not personal, and your kindness is noted, taken to heart, and very much appreciated.

As always, I will do my best to share a post-op update when I am able.

Thank you ❤️‍🩹

Post-Op Day 1

I made it through the surgery and was back home by late afternoon yesterday 💜

The surgeon removed 2 scalp masses, 1 of which felt like a bowling ball attached to my head. Because of its size, they had to take a skin graft from my thigh and place it over the scalp.. I will have a bald spot there once it fully heals. As I was told ahead of time, the donor site on my leg is definitely the toughest to deal with right now: lots of intense burning, like really bad road rash, and continued drainage that I have to manage. I’ve been used to excruciating pain from the large scalp mass for the last few months, so even though I have a massive sponge/bolster stitched into my scalp now, it still hurts less than it did 🫣 Hoping it stays that way!

I’ll go back next week to have the bandages changed and wounds checked. I’m doing my best to manage the pain and discomforts, as well as the wound care tasks.. my nursing background sure has come in handy with a lot of this stuff. Brandon has been thrust into his own training as a nurse for me the last several months, and I’m so very grateful to have him to help get me through all of this!.. even when it makes him nervous. Walking has been tough due to after effects of anesthesia and pain meds, and the pain of the donor site. Bleeding picks up quite a bit with activity, so I’m doing my best to rest.

I’m happy to be home with Brandon and the kids again. This 4th of July looked a lot different for us, but I’m grateful to be home together, nonetheless.

Hope everyone has a safe and fun weekend. Thank you for all of the continued prayers and messages of love and support ❤️💙🤍

**There are a couple photos of my battle wounds, but I turned them B&W to reduce the graphic nature

Surgery Tomorrow, 7/3

I know it’s been a very long time since I’ve had the capacity to provide an update, but I would greatly appreciate your kind prayers. I will be having surgery tomorrow to remove a couple scalp masses, one of which has gotten very large and has been causing excruciating pain (along with many other difficult symptoms) for over 2 months.

I have been struggling immensely with pain in various tumor sites for months now. I have been hitting the integrative therapies incredibly hard, and I believe the pain is, ironically, a good sign, but it is extremely difficult to manage.

I don’t know how long I’ll be in the hospital post-surgery, but given my current condition and typical responses to anesthesia, I doubt I will be able to provide any updates in a timely fashion. I very much appreciate your prayers, well wishes, positive energy, and support as I head into another frightening procedure.

Much love 🩷💜

Hanging in There, Focusing on Healing

Thank you to everyone who has checked in, sent cards, gifts, or food, and for your prayers and love. I’ve been approaching survival a little differently these past couple months, reprioritizing things other than social media (in today’s world, can you blame me?), and continuing to dive even deeper into solving my own healing.

I had scans in early January. A few things measured larger, there were a couple areas of unknown, and a few tiny previous unknowns were no longer there 🙏.

I had a consult with the surgeon who did my 2nd abdominal surgery (in 2021). He said he could do surgery for the liver, but wasn’t exactly sure it would be “worth it.” It would be another major surgery (which brings its own concerns and risks, including more scar tissue and knocking me down further), and the recovery process could potentially spur other areas to grow more. They continue to offer me chemo, but I’m still not in a place where I feel that it is the right choice for me.

Since that is all Mayo has to offer me, I have continued to dedicate every single day to my quest for healing. I’m researching and doing things I never previously imagined. I’m fully experimenting and it is scary every step of the way, but it still feels safer and wiser than the alternatives to me right now. I have a really wonderful team of providers and staff walking alongside me, making this extremely unique journey feel a little less lonely. This “team” is of my own making: multidisciplinary, from all corners of the metro, even across the country, and none of it is covered by insurance.

I continue to learn things that I’ll never be able to unlearn, which are shaping and even drastically changing my worldview. While I am trying to let go of the resentment that conventional cancer care exists as it does today, I am motivated to find a better way for myself.

Brandon continues to be the amazing, God-given hand for me to hold through all of this. He helps me research, helps me find hope when I’m down to my last shred, supports me in a million practical and emotional ways… he is absolutely the best person to walk with (or sometimes carry) me through this journey.

My presence will likely continue to be intermittent moving forward. I already have 1-3 appointments most days, and there’s a chance this will be increasing in the relative future. Amongst all the additional chaos of adulting and parenting, I am trying to find ways to be present with the kids and Brandon while not spending Too much time researching (which is incredibly tough, because it never feels like I can learn enough). We joke that I’ve learned more than enough these past few years to earn myself another doctorate, and there’s no doubt it has completely changed me.

I want to truly thank you all for the continued love and support, even if I’m not able to respond in a timely fashion, or at all. I am always doing my best, and still looking forward to the day I can post the amazing news for which I’ve been working and praying so hard every single day.

Scan Updates 💔

This past week’s scans did not go as we had hoped. Far from it, actually. Despite my best efforts, the cancer has progressed. I now have 2 significantly sized lesions in my liver, and a couple more questionable spots elsewhere. It’s been a difficult week of extremely difficult discussions and emotions.

I had my 3rd radiation treatment on Thursday. Once this round is complete (still currently scheduled for a total of 8 treatments), the road is murky. Due to the sizes of the liver lesions, they are not good candidates for interventional radiology procedures or radiation. I am awaiting a surgical consult with the surgeon who did my last abdominal surgery. While I have no interest in going through a 3rd massive abdominal surgery, if these spots are even resectable, it may be necessary.

I met with my oncologist yesterday to have a discussion I’ve been fearing for years. We have reached a difficult point in my health care plan: whether or not to do chemo again. There is no cure for leiomyosarcoma. I have known this all along. Every patient is different, however. Some need a surgery or a few treatments, they reach stability or a state of having no evidence of disease, and they can stay there… sometimes for years, sometimes indefinitely. I have always intended to be one of those patients. Unfortunately, these last several months have shown acceleration of disease I’ve never had, and it has continued to get worse.

Conventional oncology here in the US can offer surgery, radiation, chemo, and sometimes interventional radiology procedures to remove, slow, or stop lesions. But they have no way of making it go away for good. None of these treatments get to the root cause, nor can they attack circulating or cancer stem cells. It’s essentially sustaining a game of whack-a-mole as long as you can. The final Hail Mary can sometimes include chemo. We discussed this in depth yesterday.

In my case, the goal/hope with chemo would be to stabilize existing spots and hopefully stop new spots from popping up. This is best case scenario. There would be a small chance of decrease in size for existing spots, but it isn’t the usual outcome for LMS patients. None of this is news to me, but it was good to get confirmation and better understand the realistic expectations.

If there was stability or shrinkage and I was tolerating the treatment, then I’d just stay on it indefinitely until it stopped working or I no longer tolerated it. So, essentially, once you get on that chemo train, you stay on it until it derails, then try another train, until that one derails or you don’t tolerate it, etc, likely indefinitely. Meanwhile, the train is dragging you beneath it, beating you up the whole way… and after how poorly I tolerated chemo the first time, and how weak I have already been these past several months, the idea sounds terrifying and frankly not safe.

My oncologist understands why I am hesitant to do it, and said that whatever I decide, she will support me however she can and that she wishes she had more and better options to offer me..

I don’t know that I want to board the train. I have to weigh the known high risks with the possibility of stability, but only with continued use, and only if I tolerated it…

It has very much come to the point now where I need to figure this out on my own, receive God’s blessings of a tremendous miracle, or this may be the beginning of the end.

Brandon and I have been working hard together to review my protocol, going back through all our notes and prior ideas… things I’ve tried that could be modified or restarted, things we hoped I wouldn’t need to resort to, continuing to think outside the box and prioritize as best we can. I’ve been going back and forth with my integrative team, bringing new providers and therapies on board for the last few weeks… we are feeling like we still have some solid ideas that all have research and/or strong anecdotal evidence to support… but it is scary as F!!!!!!!! And expensive!! Insurance doesn’t pay for wellness, unfortunately 🙄😤. And the stress?? There is no way to describe it.

These past few weeks my priority in choosing therapies and regimens has been Wellness. How can I not just “attack” cancer but also Deeply HEAL my body and mind! I continue to read stories of miraculous remissions to give me a dose of hope to keep going. I look at my husband and kids and it GUTS me to think about leaving them behind. So through the tears and heartbreak I keep researching, keep reading and experimenting on myself. Praying to God, my angels, and ancestors to Please guide me! Please heal me! Please help me so that I can be here, healthy, to live a long life with my family.

I am terrified of the possible pain and suffering, but I’m not a stranger to that. I don’t need to be told I’m strong. I Know I am. And I don’t want to have to be! I’ve been strong long enough!! But the thing that haunts me the most is the thought of leaving my family when we still have so much life to live together.

I am not asking for anything right now, but pretty please don’t put the onus on me to tell you how you can help.. I so VERY much appreciate the offers, but in all honesty, I can barely get through the day, and I don’t have the mental capacity to try to think anymore than I already need to. If it moves you, please join me in prayer. We are continuing to spend a lot of money on experimental therapies. We are driving long distances most days so are going through a lot of gas and wear and tear on the car. I am trying to eat as healthfully as possible, but our schedule is chaotic and requires immense flexibility, so life is rarely plannable for us anymore.

If there is a supplement or medication or protocol out there, I have likely tried it and/or am doing it… Brandon keeps reminding me that if beating this were easy, they would have figured it out by now. I’ve been trying to get beyond cancer for 5 fricken years. I am beyond exhausted and hanging on by a thread of hope most of the time. But I know that that thread, however thin, will keep me working so that I can stay here with my husband and kids for as long as I possibly can.

7 Weeks Since Surgery

It’s a little hard to believe, but it’s been 7 weeks since surgery. Recovery is going ok, but I’m still trying to come back from radiation and the cardiac event in April, so the overall progress has seemed very slow.

Following the traumatic events of this spring/summer, I found myself in a near-constant state of panic. I was experiencing panic attacks daily, crying multiple times per day, and constantly stuck in an unending doom spiral. The coping mechanisms on which I’d learned to rely over the last few years were no longer seeming to help, and every single stressor became just another insurmountable trigger. I managed 4.5 years of cancer to not need daily medication to manage my mental health; I have had detrimental side effects in the past with all of the meds I’ve taken, so I was very hesitant to even consider trying them again. However, I finally reached a point where I realized I could no longer responsibly try to manage things on my own and had to fight to get prescriptions for new meds that weren’t going to carry the high risks of those I’ve tried in the past. So far, I am thankful to report that the medications are helping, though we are still experimenting and working to find the best current regimen for me.

Medication alone has never been sufficient for me when it comes to my mental health. In addition to self-care/lifestyle factors, I have seen several therapists over the past few years. Unfortunately, I discovered this year that even long-term ones were no longer serving me in the ways I currently need. I finally found a therapist I am comfortable with again, and I have been seeing them 1-2 times/week now.

Since surgery, I have had several other important scans and appointments. Thankfully, the large ovarian cyst and accompanying symptoms have resolved. An MRI of my right (non-operative) shoulder reveals a complete tendon tear in my rotator cuff, and I will likely just be continuing to try to heal that through physical therapy at this point.

I had a cardiac MRI last month to get a more accurate measurement of my heart function following the events back in April. Sadly, the MRI shows my left ventricular ejection fraction was at 44%, which places me in the “mild” heart failure category now. Before chemo in 2019, it was 55-60%, and before this last round of radiation, it was 50-55%. The cardiologist has started me on 2 heart failure medications at this time, but, because I’m also struggling with POTS symptoms and low blood pressure, it’s an extremely tricky balance (all of the possible medications for this type of heart failure lower blood pressure, and one of them is also a diuretic, when I’m already struggling to keep my fluid levels higher due to POTS).

I’ve also been meeting and scheduling consults with additional providers to further expand my integrative approach to health and healing. I am learning a lot, trying my best to not get Too overwhelmed, and working hard to remain flexible and hopeful amongst all the unknowns.

Over the last several weeks I have been doing my best to prioritize my mental health, peace, and quality time with Brandon and the kids. I have been limiting my time and influences on social media, making space for intentional solitude, and trying to do things on my own timeline without judging or shaming myself for doing so. I’m learning to allow rest without guilt and just generally try to free myself of unrealistic expectations (typically self-imposed). While I have been working on it for years, I am focusing hard on prioritizing positivity, practicing affirmations, and minimizing and better managing negative energy – from both my own mind and external sources.

Needless to say, it’s been a busy 7 weeks since surgery. As I’m feeling up to it, I will maybe share some photos of recent events since surgery. We had a nice little (delayed) 11th wedding anniversary celebration, Sloane is back in soccer, and we’ve been trying to do some of our little family traditions again. I’d love to say I’m feeling so much better, but scans are already coming up again in a couple of weeks (how??!!), so I’m having to work extra hard at avoiding the doom spirals right now.

As always, thank you all for your care and continued prayers 💜

Made it Through Surgery!

Made it through surgery and am back home! Dealing with quite a bit of pain, soreness, and grogginess still. Overall, feeling relieved that it’s over, the mass is gone, and that I am still able to use my left arm and hand (tho currently limited from the pain and bandages). I’m not even 100% sure where the incision is, exactly, as the huge bandage is covering it all up. Have to keep this on for 5 days, then replace for another 5 days. The mass was in the axilla, kind of against the chest well and scapular muscles. It was pressing on the brachial nerve plexus, so I’m very hopeful that these awful nerve symptoms will improve as I heal 🙏🤞

The surgeon wasn’t able to locate the small scapular spot that showed up on the most recent MRI, so we’ll just have to watch that area and pray it is nothing and goes away on its own 🙏

Also still dealing with pain and discomfort from the ovarian cyst, but have had some moments of improvement amongst the pain, so also praying that resolves on its own! Still trying to get follow-up coordinated for that.

I really appreciate all your prayers, well wishes, and check-ins. Hoping I sleep well tonight! Last night only afforded me about 3.5 hours of sleep 🥴

Love to you all!! 🩷

Surgery This Week & Many Unknowns

The celebrations and little joys of summer were short-lived.. I only got a couple weeks of feeling human again before I ended up in the emergency room twice in the last week, with lots of unanswered questions and a current plan for surgery this Thursday 😩

The “indeterminate” spot in my left axilla from the July 1 scans has grown quite a bit during the last few weeks, pressing on my brachial plexus and intercostal nerves, causing quite a bit of pain and nerve symptoms. There is also another new, suspicious spot on my left scapula. The hope is to have this all taken care of with surgery on Thursday.

I had to go back to the ED yesterday because of worsening pelvic and groin pain, to find out I have a 6cm ovarian cyst 🤯 After a verrrrrry long day, ovarian torsion was reasonably ruled out and I was allowed to go home.

I’ve also been having new pain in my right axilla/shoulder, but they couldn’t do an MRI yesterday, so waiting to hear back when that can be done.. and need to follow closely for the ovarian cyst (including more imaging and probable consult with gyn-onc), meanwhile praying that it goes away on its own quickly and doesn’t result in torsion or rupture 😩

I continue to be in quite a bit of pain from everything, and the stress and anxiety are through the Roof! I am SO F*ing sick of this rollercoaster of shit!!

I expect to be hearing from a lot of providers in the coming days as we make plans for what’s next. I appreciate prayers for this to all be resolved quickly and easily, for peace and healing. All the plans we had for the remainder of the summer (including our wedding anniversary, the fair, waterpark, walks, etc) are completely shot to shit now. Emotionally, I am not in a good place. I am trying hard to focus on the kids, Brandon, and the little moments of less pain and peace, but they are hard to come by. I want to heal from all of this 😭. I want so badly to be healthy so that I can enjoy life with my family and we can do even simple things together without being insanely stressed or in a lot of pain. The fears and unknowns are terrible. I want to live a long, healthy life with my family. Cancer needs to F* off!!!