Sorry I haven't posted in a while. I have no excuse except my life is not my own anymore and at the end of each day, I am usually too tired or too emotionally drained to write my own name.
Besides, there's not much happening in the way of new information that would or could help anyone going thru this nightmare.
I have made a point to take at least one hour each day and either go for a walk or go to the gym to punch a punching bag or do something so simple and delightful as visit a friend.
The 15th of September is fast approaching. The 15th is the day we are to go get the Flex-Scope to look and see what is happening in the throat that we so recently burned to a crisp to kill the cancer and anything else in it's path.
But.... Here is where it comes down to choices. Not MY choices but my husbands. It is, after all his life and illness.
He wants to do absolutely nothing.
No tests or scopes or scans or needles or IV fluids or blood transfusions. No shots or pills or rinses.
No more medications.
At first, I raved at him like a lunatic.
What do you mean do nothing?
"ARE YOU CRAZY?"
I am one of those people that learned a thing or two from watching Dr. Phil.
My philosophy is:
"I'd rather be Happy than Right"
I don't need to be right. I'd rather be happy. Being right all the time isn't me. I can be wrong too. I am not a control freak in any way but I was going to fight this one to the bitter end!
In tears and in a rage I stood my ground.
Face red. Hair in tangles and fists clenched.
This side of hysterical.
"Yes, you ARE going to scans and scopes and appointments. I'll drag your sorry ass all over town but we ARE and we will! Are you hearing me, Mister?"
We were NOT going to do nothing.
Nope. No way. Not an option.
Then out of the blue I got this note from a beautiful YouTube Subscriber: