I’m not going to sugar coat things. I am pretty desperate to survive. Things aren’t going well with my liver. I am producing fluids at an alarming rate, which is one of the bad signs that things aren’t working correctly.

Since my near fatal reaction to one type of chemo, they have put me on something else that is far less aggressive toward my cancer. I am hopeful, but concerned that the lesser chemo won’t be enough to hold the cancer off. My last scan showed the tumors had grown in both number and size. So, this is what I mean by hope becoming desperation.

Don’t get me wrong. My will to live is still strong, and outwardly I am doing better in some areas. My appetite came storming back with a vengeance. I eat everything not tied down. My hair is growing back, and I generally feel better than I did 2 months ago. However, the reality of my situation is always with me. I want to live. I want to see my girls grow up so badly.

My battle with this cancer has taken on tidal form, with the ebb and flow of the fight going back and forth. Right now the tide is out and I feel ok. But I always feel like I’m waiting for it to rush back in and consume me. That won’t happen without a bitter fight from me.

With Fierce Hope,


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