In which I think there is still hope

May 24, 2011

Where to start?

I’m trying to be patient with my mother, but I feel like she’s choking the life out of me. I just learned that she told someone yesterday that there was “no hope” for me. Although she has probably felt that about me in one way or another for my whole life, this time she was talking about my chances of recovery.

I was surprised to hear that she had expressed that particular thought. It didn’t make me feel very confident. Apparently, she clarified her statement to “no medical hope,” but that just made me feel worse. Because for there to be nothing medicine can do for me, that means she believes that my recovery is up to her, and her control of my diet.

She gave me a slight lecture tonight about how I need to totally give up dairy. She read it in a book that quitting eating dairy products will, I don’t know, cure cancer, I guess. I think if that were true, the first thing my doctors would have told me is to stop eating dairy products. Boom! Cancer cured.

The thing is, I barely eat any dairy products as it is. I seriously doubt I am making a difference in my cancer treatment because I ate a hard-boiled egg.

I resent that my mother is telling people behind my back that there’s no hope, and implying that she has the cure for cancer, but that I’m just too willful to accept it. In her version of things, I’m killing myself out of stubbornness.

I don’t know what to think anymore. I’m scared that I’m going to die, soon. I’m scared that my mother’s frantic grasping for control of the situation will ruin whatever time I have left. I’m afraid of what will happen to my cat — who will take care of him? I know that no one stays on this planet forever, but I really am not ready to leave yet. I’m afraid that if I show any weakness in front of my mother, it will give her more reason to force her bizarre diet on me. (Really: her idea of lunch is a saucer of walnuts that have been soaked in water.) Shes insisting I stay on this diet, but she’s not actually making me any of the food listed in the recipe section. She hates to cook, and that is a real detriment to caring for someone.

I have friends who bring food, but dealing with the passive aggression that comes when I eat, say, a Greek yogurt instead of a soy yogurt is oppressive. The implication that I am killing myself on purpose is too much to take.

I’m just hoping the chemo works. I’m hoping my liver heals and is perfect and gives me no troubles for another fifty years. It was hard to hear that my mother had said that there was no hope. I am very much holding onto hope. It’s what I have right now. That, and a couple more rounds of chemo. Then, we shall see.



  1. I’m hoping the chemo works, too.

    • Thank you, miss. I’m meeting with a doctor this morning to discuss it.

  2. There is ALWAYS hope! I personally know 4 people given worse odds than yours who are prancing around the planet 5+ years after completing treatment. I think your mom is feeling hopeless on other fronts and projecting that on you. You have to have a talk about her believing in you and being supportive because that kind of negative energy will really harm your mental (and physical) health. And soggy walnuts? Are you F’ing kidding me? I will pack you a care package today … Including some healthy food that does not suck! When does she go up to the new house? Mega Kegger baby!

    • The walnuts really pushed me over the edge. I guess it’s a Dr Oz thing, whoever he is.

      I am holding onto hope.

      Mega kegger, indeed!!!

  3. Supposedly by soaking nuts and seeds, “you release these toxic enzyme inhibitors and increase the life and vitality contained within them!” Or so says the internet. I say, “Whatever!”

    Walnuts, in and of themselves do NOT make a meal! You need protein, veggies and good fats for every meal.

    Can you tell you mom to leave? Seriously. Can you? You have tons of friends who would love to help and could make you REAL meals… not just those of the walnut variety…


    • I have gently suggested to her that she needn’t feel like everything is up to her. No dice. I think as soon as her house is approved by the bank (it’s a short sale, so even though the sellers accepted her offer, the bank still needs to approve it) she will have a new project and not feel like she has to hover so much.

      She really is trying to help me, but the things she is doing are sometimes not helpful. I’m in the doctor’s waiting room right now, so soon I’ll have some results about my latest blood test.

  4. And darling girl, chemo is not your only hope of recovery, as we both know… Your spirit is what is healing, and therefor taking your body along with it. However, as good as the intentions mom has in “helping” you recover, she is adding to your mental, emotional and physical stress with her “efforts”. Do I need to come over there for a little meeting of the minds, perhaps? Because I would be so glad to do so. I would be kind, yet firm. This is why I want you to come see me here for awhile. You need some REAL care taking and healing from one who understands the implications of all of this, mental emotional and physical. Get something to eat for Gods sakes! It’s time for mama to go somewhere else. Shall I make it so?

    Your physical healing has soooo much to do with you, your thoughts, your feelings, your beliefs… Not hers. You have kicked the other cancer in the balls and walked way from it, having it leave cause it was not welcome in your world. You can do the same with this bout. You are not leaving this planet anytime soon, trust me on that. We have waaaaaay too much to do still. So BARGE IT! And I mean NOW! Do not allow her to waste any more of your time and energy smokey bear, cause only you can prevent forest fires. Message me her personal phone number… I need to have a word. WORD.

  5. Still sending you all my best thoughts and love. I want to shake your mother till her teeth rattle. You need to eat things that are going to keep you strong so that you can fight this cancer! Also, there’s no such thing as “no hope” until you’re six feet under, and since you’re still here, there’s still hope! There is ALWAYS hope. And you are badass and you will kick this cancer in the teeth. Love you, beautiful lady.

  6. Grub it and Barge it! WORD!

  7. Where there is faith, there is always hope, and I have faith in you and that brilliant purple and gold streaked energy force flowing through your every vein, embolding your every cell with pure love and powerful life. The chemo will do its job, and your enchanting life force will prevail, so I am beyond hopeful about your full recovery. That said, maybe a good sized water bong of medical marijuana would make the walnuts more appealing, and maybe your mother would benefit from a little mm herself. xo

  8. Hear, hear!

  9. I double the hear, hear! (Or is that quadrouple?)

  10. Your mom should not be even thinking it much less saying it out loud for you to hear. Medically there is hope. Surely she of all people should have more faith than that. I am so glad you can soar above her comments. I know she is acting out of love, but sometimes family can say dumb things. My sister told me there was no hope in my situation & to abort my child. I had to block her out of my head to let the good thoughts stay in there. She was wrong, of course. Anyway, I think you are amazing.

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