My Dad has been battling prostate cancer since right before Katrina (2005). The doctors removed his prostate in October 2005 and supposedly the cancer with it. His cancer returned about a year ago. He currently gets treatment five days a week.
He says, "I guess cancer doesn't grow on the weekends or holidays. And apparently you don't need a prostate to have prostate cancer."
My Dad is 76, but is quite active. I realize that I'm going to lose him soon-ish, but am not ready for that day yet.
My cousin Paul - three years younger than I am - has been battling colon and liver cancer for over three years. The doctors keep giving him a positive diagnosis - and then the cancer spreads or comes back. He's 41 years old. 41. He says that if this fifth regiment of treatment doesn't work, he's giving up. We don't believe him - and I really don't hope he's serious.
My aunt Barbara - Paul's mom, and my Mom's younger (66-year-old) sister - has been battling brain cancer for the last year. Her PET scan came back two weeks ago: The cancer has spread throughout her body. Her doctor says that she has single digit months to live. She is living with my cousin David - a doctor - and his gorgeous, patient wife Becki on the Northshore for now. The day before Mardi Gras (three days ago), however, she was admitted to the hospital for an irregular heartbeat. She was moved from the ICU to the "regular" hospital on Wednesday afternoon.
Carlos and I visited with Barbara on Ash Wednesday, while she was still in ICU. She is still Barbara, but we can tell that she is beginning to forget things: A physical therapist stopped in while we were visiting. While attempting to answer questions, Barbara sometimes deferred to Becki. Sample question: "How do you exercise daily?" Barbara wasn't sure and looked toward Becki for the answer.
Another update another day. I have more to add to this story, but I'm angry and upset right now - so have to move on.