I missed this thread until today.
I could elaborate, but I'll err on the side of brevity.
I am a cancer survivor. Last year, I was diagnosed with an inoperable tumor in my tonsil. I asked for a second opinion at a different hospital and after close examination of biopsy's, Ct scans, etc. a team of surgeons concurred. Prognosis was 8 months to 1 yr. I was offered Chemo and radiation to prolong my life, thus extending it to around 1-2 yrs..
It's difficult to be optimistic when everything point to your demise. However, I went through the treatments and showed marked improvement. I underwent an operation for treatment of the effects radiation had on my skin. Chemo can be an ass-kicker, but was tolerable for me, probably due to the amount of anti-nausea medication.
Of course, its been tough on my family, but I've had tremendous support. I still go for periodic checkups, but they are becoming less frequent. I've had subsequent CT scans, MRI's, PET scans and x-rays. Recently, I asked my doctor "how should I describe my condition at this point"?. Am I in remission or a patient who is recovering...or what?..He turned to me and said the magic words....."you're cured".
I now go to monthly meetings at the hospital where terminal patients receive helpful information on how to cope with their condition. It's heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time, but it allows me to pay back a little something. In the words of Scott4USC.."Fight On" Cancer is a terrible disease, but it can be beat.
On a lighter side. I happened to be hospitalized last year at the exact time our MadJacks golf pool was beginning. I wasn't able to make the picks and I had my girlfriend try to pick my players for me. She knows nothing about golf and put me in a huge hole at the beginning.....actually DEAD LAST! ( no pun intended) I managed to slowly scramble back through the summer and make it somewhat interesting.
For those of you who currently are affected (HokieFan) and those who have relatives who suffer from this terrible disease....don't ever give up hope. I, for one, can attest to the strange workings of modern medicine and faith.