Category Archives: Cancer Sucks

Life is Too Short

Cancer Sucks

Somehow, I’ve through the first half of the year fairly well. The second part of the year has been tremendously better than the first half. The end of radiation was the start of a new phase for me — being on maintenance drugs. I’ve been on them for almost a month, and so far so good. I was really scared about starting these drugs, but I’m getting into a new routine to make sure I take them each day, and watching my diet so I don’t sabotage my body any more than what it’s already been through.

As I’ve come through the tunnel from the dark side to a much lighter aide, I’ve had many family members and friends by my side. I’ve had people checking on me and praying for me regularly. I really didn’t give my survival too much thought until recently, when I learned that my friend’s mom did not survive.

One week after I had a mastectomy back in January, my mom’s friend dropped by my house. She brought me a Get-Well card with a gift card, a Saint Padre Pio prayer card, and a Saint Padre Pio coin. Just a few months earlier, she’d entered remission from colon cancer. She was a survivor. I was so happy and surprised she dropped by that day. I was so gorked out on pain meds that I lost all manners and didn’t invite her in to sit. I chatted with her for a bit and just felt tired. She must’ve sensed it because she left soon after stopping over. When I felt a little better, I revisited her card and the small gifts she’d given me. She was so sweet and thoughtful. It all came straight from her heart. I send her a text thanking her for the card and gifts.

After I healed from surgery, I went straight into chemo within a few weeks. As I rounded the end of chemo treatment in May, I learned from my friend that her mom started having pain and eventually found out she had a recurrence of cancer. It returned to her liver and spread throughout her colon. I sent her a text on July 17th telling her I was paying for her, and again on August 13th. She replied both times saying Thank You, with a heart emoji. On August 22nd, she passed away. She was 73 years old. She had been like a dear 2nd mom to me since I was 13 years old.

Yesterday I went to her funeral. It was heartbreaking and wonderful at the same time. Obviously heartbreaking because she is gone, but wonderful because she left behind nothing but good memories and touched the hearts of many people. I can’t believe she was in my living room 7 months ago hugging me because she was so worried about me, and now she’s gone.

Life is too short. This death touched me more than any other so far. This one hit home. I know I’m blessed to have the health I have right now considering the diagnosis I had at the end of last year.

Stifle Me Not

I Did It!

Breast Cancer, Cancer Sucks, Change, Healing, Hope, Motivation, Positive Attitude

Yesterday I completed my last round of chemotherapy. And today I got my last shot to increase my white blood count, which always follows the day after a chemo treatment. I was dreading this last treatment. And rightly so, I didn’t have a port, so my veins in my one arm are getting abused. Third poke was the charm, with the help of an ultrasound machine to locate a good vein. My doctor appointment went well after that, but then it took a couple of hours to be cleared from my bloodwork to start the infusion process — because my results were sent to the wrong department. My infusion lasted from Noon to 3 PM. And I finally got to ring the bell!

For as much dread as I’d had the last week leading up to this appointment, I was so excited to ring the bell! I was all smiles as so many nurses gathered around to clap for me and hug me and take pictures. As I walked out the exit, people in the waiting room were clapping for me. It felt great to get through this milestone!! I don’t ever want to do that again!!

Next week is my setup scan for the next milestone – Radiation. From what I hear, it’s way better than the chemo. And I get to start growing my hair back out!

I’m so proud of myself. I almost bypassed chemo altogether for fear of the side effects, but I think this was a good thing. It was doable. Hard, but doable.

Time to move into the next season. More goals ahead.

Stifle Me Not

Getting Through #3

Breast Cancer, Cancer Sucks, Healing, Honesty, Motherhood, Positive Attitude

Treatment #3 was a success. It was delayed, but it happened. I now see why chemo ports are a thing. Since my treatment plan is 4 treatments, I wasn’t ordered to have a port put in. Little did I know how destructive one chemo treatment can be to one vein, and nearby veins. Treatment #1 was easy since I was undamaged. Treatment #2 was easy at first, but I needed a new IV in a new vein by the last medication. By this week, Treatment #3, the nurses were struggling to find a sturdy entranceway.

Everything was delayed by about an hour on Monday because I they had to redraw blood and poke me about 4 different times. God bless the very experienced nurse that was finally able to deal with my veins.

And God Bless my dad for impatiently waiting through it all, and continuing to wait with me for the next 4 hours. My mom helped me out when I had my mastectomy in January. And my dad has been taking me to all of the chemo treatments. I don’t wish this on any parent, no matter how old their child is. I’m so thankful for both of them being here for me, and helping me out with my kids. In the first few days after treatment, I’m useless. My dad has been picking up my son and taking him to and from school when I can’t. My mom checks on me religiously, as does my sister and some of my close friends.

No matter how much this sucks, this experience is making me so grateful for everyone in my life.

Today is a struggle. Somehow, I managed to get out of bed to say goodbye to my daughter before she caught the bus. Somehow, I managed to make my son a bagel, pack his lunch, and send him off with grandpa to school. Somehow, I managed to get on my work laptop to answer a few emails. And, somehow, I was even able to make myself an omelet.

I’m doing it. I’m getting through round #3.

Stifle Me Not

Here We Go Again

Breast Cancer, Cancer Sucks

I’ve had a full week of being semi-normal. I went into work every day. I didn’t work a complete full day every day, but at least 6 hours each day. And I took care of my kids and home, and I had some decent energy. I even did a Pilates workout and plucked a new eyebrow hair. Didn’t see that coming!

But yesterday I filled two prescriptions, one a steroid and one an anti-nausea medication, to prep for my next treatment on Monday. Ugh. It’s crazy how I get through 3 weeks and feel almost great, only to do it all over again. And I’m not even having that many rounds! I will forever feel for anyone who has been in these shoes.

I am now technically halfway done. I’ve been through 2 (of 4) treatments as well as the 3 healing weeks that follow, so 6 out of 12 weeks are complete. Even though I will be so happy and want to celebrate my last treatment, it won’t truly be complete until a few weeks later. The treatments are but a few hours, but the actual healing comes in the weeks that follow.

Tomorrow is the last day I’ll feel “normal” for about two weeks. On Sunday I start steroids again, which cause me to be all over the place. I get a lot accomplished, but it messes with me. Monday is the treatment. Tuesday is a white blood cell injection. Wednesday I go off steroids and begin to not feel well, which lasts into the weekend. By Sunday I can drive again. The next week is somewhat of a wildcard, at least at the start of the week. I have to watch what I eat and how much I do. By the end of the week I’m usually rounding the bend into somewhat normal, but tired, mode again. And then I get a week of regular normal. Until the next treatment.

This is hard. I can do it, but that doesn’t make is less hard.

Stifle Me Not

In the Thick of It

Breast Cancer, Cancer Sucks, Hope, Learning

I’m doing it. I’m halfway through my chemo treatments. Monday was round 2 of 4. Yes, two down, two to go. The actual day of chemo is not hard. And neither is the day after. I’ve been keeping a little notebook of how my days are going and it seems to be that days 3 – 6 are the roughest so far. Yesterday was day 5, and I cried. I looked back in my notebook at what I wrote on day 5 after the first treatment. Yep, I cried. I have two more treatments where I have to be prepared for the emotional dip on day 5.

What a rollercoaster ride this is. Everyone demonizes chemotherapy, but I think all of the other drugs are a big culprit in the process. I think going on and off steroids each treatment messes with me more than the actual chemo. The day before a treatment, you load up on steroids. You continue that the day of, and after, treatment. Also, during treatment, they give you an additional dose through your IV. I’m all hopped up on roids the first 3 days! Then, once I miss the first does of steroids on day 3, I start to go downhill feel like complete crap. The sweating is endless, I feel like a little drunk stumbling around my house, and eating becomes a game.

I’m noticing a pattern. It’s known that you get nauseous or sick during chemo, but I guess no one really steps you through WHY this happens and how you can get through it easier. You get nauseous because eventually your body wants to eliminate all of this hard stuff out of your body. What you do or eat leading up to that first “elimination” is pretty key to how the experience goes. No matter what, your body is going to force out stuff, and you just have to help it along the best you can. I was way more conscious of my food and hydration choices this round, and I really think that helped me. I’m also trying to move around more. Too much sitting is not good. Rest is good, but no movement throughout the day is not good.

Today is a better day than the last week, but today is a tricky day. It’s a day where I feel mentally better, but physically I’m not ready yet. I’m happy to know there was a clearing last time and I can feel the clearing coming this time. My patience has never been so tested in all my life. I’ve never wanted to fast forward through something so bad in all my life. But here I am, in the thick of it.

Although this is hard, I think I’m going to be happy I did this later on. A couple of days ago I woke up and my hair, on my already shaved head, was falling out even more. I needed my 15-year-old daughter’s help with shaving it down more. She didn’t hesitate to help me and patiently helped me shave it down to a zero. I told her how much I appreciated her help and how much I love her. And I told her I’ll be there for her in the middle of the night when she has babies later on and needs help with them. She just said “you better”. And we laughed.

I realized I’m going through this hard time not just to live for me and my kids now, but to also be there for my kids when their days get tougher as adults. I’ve needed my parents more now in my 40s than I did in my teens or 20s. I want that for my kids too.

Stifle Me Not

Ready or Not, It’s Here

Breast Cancer, Cancer Sucks, Healing

Last Monday was my D-Day, or should I say C-Day, since it was my first Chemo Day. It went unexpectedly well. I was bracing for the worst, and it was the most efficient day. I reported for lab work at 7:45 AM, saw my oncologist right after, and headed into the infusion center by 9 AM. After a 40-minute cocktail of pre-drugs, including steroids, anti-nausea, and Benadryl, I started getting the cancer healing drugs over the next 1.5 hrs. I sat in a comfy heated recliner with my blanket and pillow, and I literally ate snacks the majority of the time.

My dad anxiously stared at me from a nearby chair, trying to read my face and stay as calm as a father in his position could possibly be. We were out the door by 12:30 PM. It was quite amazing. I slept well on night one. My sister stayed the night with me just in case, but all was fine. And then I went on Day 2 for a white blood count injection. I drove to the hospital and back for that, with my nervous sister riding shotgun. We got back home to my mom stopping by. She chattered for 4 hours while I made chicken and asparagus. I slept well on night 2.

I woke up okay on day 3, but by Noon I took a seat in the bathroom and stayed there for awhile. It was gut-wrenching to say the least, and Imodium and Gatorade saved the rest of the day.

Day 4 was full of aches and tiredness. Day 5 and 6 was more of the same. My mouth feels like its coated in muck, my feet and hands occasionally tingle, I get weird twinges here and there, and laying down is preferred most of the time. Nothing really tastes right except for sweet things. All I seem to want is wheat-based and milk-based foods. Vegetables and citric acidy type foods sound like the devil. Even though everything tastes “off”, I have an overwhelming sense of smell. It’s a little too good. I bought new soap, which I usually love, but it’s too strong smelling to use right now. And I can’t wear any perfume or body mist – it suddenly makes me gag.

I’m also having some temperature regulation issues. I’m usually always cold, but after 3 days of steroids, I get so hot, but then after those wore off a few days later, cold cold cold. It’s crazy.

I was doing so well all week without any nausea or vomiting, and then mid-day Saturday after lunch, I was in so much belly pain. Only to see lunch again. That took me about 3 hours to recover with Body Armor and some Zofran.

Day 7 was Easter Sunday, and lucky for me I was able to eat pretty well that day. I was tired all day, but the achiness has subsided. I’m so happy I was able to be with my kids and family for Easter. I appreciated every last drop of that day.

Today it has been officially one week since treatment began. I guess now I have an idea of what to expect the next time. My next treatment is scheduled in two weeks. I’m curious how much I’m going to perk up in between these treatments. Today I successfully took my daughter to a doctor’s appointment and went into work for about 2 hours, but I couldn’t eat anything except a protein shake at the start of the day. I’ve also been working on my laptop from the couch. I’m so thankful that I can work when I can. I’m so grateful that my employer is so understanding.

I’m glad the first round is done, and I can say I’m 25% way through. I’m keeping my eye on the prize – to be done and feel healthy again.

I’ve been playing with my hair, knowing full well it won’t be there for much longer. Trying to take it day by day instead of getting to wrapped up in the anxiety of future happenings.

Stifle Me Not

Fighting the Good Fight Against Myself

Breast Cancer, Cancer Sucks, Change, God, Hope, Overthinking, Positive Attitude

It’s one week until I start chemo. I am, quite frankly, terrified.

I know this a last week of normal-as-I-know-it. I thought being diagnosed and having a mastectomy messed with my normal, but I returned to normalish pretty quickly after getting back to work. Returning to work helped me get back into a familiar routine. The worst of it is trying to quiet my mind about what’s next.

I’ve been trying hard not to try too hard. I’m trying to enjoy day as much as possible, but knowing chemo is right around the corner is really messing with me. I feel like I just got my life back from healing from surgery, and I appreciate each good morning. I wake up every morning and feel pretty good, think of what day it is, and immediately think of how many more days I have until I have strong drugs infused into my body. I woke up crying two days in a row, just because I was overwhelmed within my first few thoughts of the day.

Three weeks ago, I started on two drugs: an injection that’s supposed to suppress my ovary function and a daily aromatase inhibitor pill. The pill lowers estrogen levels, which helps to decrease growth of any breast cancer cells. Since getting the injection and being on the pills, I feel an overall difference in my body, energy, joints, etc. The first week was full of head and body aches. It improved by week 2. It’s not the worst, but it’s not a carefree-breezy-feeling-body anymore.

Last week, my doctor told me to stop the pill while I go through chemo and radiation. I’ve felt great since being off the pill for a week. I think my fear is valid. Not only are chemo and radiation going to have their own set of side effects, but there’s no returning to my current “normal”. After the major treatments are over, I’ll be on pills for a good part of the next decade.

The diagnosis I received in November is supposedly the “good kind” that is highly treatable. After learning of my diagnosis, it was immediately followed up with, “but it’s non-aggressive and treatable”. That made me feel better for a little while, until I experienced how the treatment makes me feel. What they don’t tell you is the drugs alter your everything. Your life flips upside down just as much as someone else’s life. In my case, instead of gradually entering into older age, I’m being forced into menopause (and more) all within a few months. This sounds so much simpler than it actually is.

Sounds. So. Simple.

People often refer to cancer patients as “fighters”. The definition of a fighter is someone who doesn’t easily admit defeat in spite of difficulties or opposition. The truth is, yes, you’re fighting, but you’re not fighting anything or anyone but yourself. You’re relinquishing complete control, and that’s the hardest part of the fight. I’m not in control of any of this. Yes, I’m questioning my treatment options along the way and making a few key decisions. But whichever path I take, I’m releasing control and having to trust outside of my own actions.

If you refuse treatment, you give up control of knowing what’s going on in your body. If you agree to treatment, you’re handing control over to doctors and nurses. Even if you’re somewhere in the middle, in which you agree to some treatment and not others, you’re still left with not really controlling a damn thing. Something could get away from you, or someone could screw up something. You’re constantly fighting you own doubts, worries, fears, etc.

So when you hear someone say, “he or she is a fighter”, it’s not untrue. They’ve become masters at fighting their constant thoughts and emotions. This is where mind over matter comes in. I’ve heard about this, but I see it now. I see how you have to keep your attitude going in a more positive direction to influence your physical well-being.

A mental battle I keep encountering is handling other people’s thoughts and emotions too. Not everyone operates the way I do, and that can frustrate me. I’ve already overanalyzed every possible thing about my treatment, so when someone else does it in front of me, I’m already over it. I don’t want to discount their valid feelings, but I also don’t want to spend more time on something I’ve already conquered in my own mind. I don’t want to be set back.

Something that does keep setting me back emotionally, which I really hate, is that I’m upset that my family is helping me out. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family and that they’re there for me. I’m so happy and blessed to have them. But I had a husband once upon a time, and he decided to cheat on me because he’s a selfish narcissist. Now he’s off having fun with his girlfriend, while avoiding serving an important caretaker role in my life. Now, 6 years later, of course I don’t want him to take care of me, but I can’t help but feel like I should be his mess. He should be the one taking me to appointments and worrying about me, but I know if he was here he’d blow the fight right out of me.

So I can’t help but wonder if all of this will have some weird twisty ending in which it was supposed to happen this way. And I continuously go back to God must be mysteriously up to something. I don’t know what it is, and I won’t know what it is for a while. But it’s all for something, even if it doesn’t feel that way.

Stifle Me Not

Jealous

Breast Cancer, Cancer Sucks

Today I went for a Chemo Teach appointment with a Nurse Practitioner. It was full of information about what I should do and can expect before, during, and after my first chemo session. I knew quite a bit of what she told me. It made me realize that I really have researched a lot and educated myself about as much as I can.

2-week countdown. Ugh.

I really can’t focus well right now. I don’t know if I’m stressed (probably) or if it’s the medication I started two weeks ago that’s messing with me, but I can’t focus. And when I try to accomplish anything, I get sidetracked and overwhelmed.

I’m also terribly jealous of anyone who is planning anything fun right now. The week I start chemo is Spring Break week. My kids will be out of town with their dad on vacation. And some of my co-workers are going on vacation. I’ve been slowly adapting to the reality that this year isn’t going to be the best, but now my love of the sun is being taken away from me. I’m supposed to stay out of the sun, obviously, while I’m in my treatment phase.

I don’t live a crazy party life. I work, eat, sleep, care for my children, go to the grocery store, cook, clean, and keep up with family and a few friends. I typically keep it low key and peaceful. I’m really not missing out on too much, but right now all “fun” possibilities are wiped out and it’s really bumming me out.

Dating is also out of the question right now. Like what am I going to say when I meet someone? “Hi, my name is … my life consists of working, taking care of my kids, and cancer treatments.” Ha! I think not.

Not that dating was going well last year anyhow. I attempted to date last July and again in October. Nope, and nope. I paused my dating life after the Oct dating flub, but two irregular mammograms and a biopsy ruined the rest of 2023 for me. I never did get “back out there.” Wherever “out there ” is.

I once started seeing a guy who, a couple of weeks in, told me that he had severe colon issues and he was about to get surgery done in the coming weeks. It wasn’t a quick fix surgery either. There were possibilities of complications, etc. I was perplexed as why he was actively dating???? He was rude early on and that quickly opened my eyes that he wasn’t a very good person. I think he wanted someone to take care of him. I felt bad for him, but I wasn’t going to be taking care of him.

And I don’t want anyone signing up to take care of me mid-cancer treatment either. That’s not fair to the other person.

That’s my other area of jealousy. It seems like everyone I know who’s had some kind of diagnosis like this has someone. I have my parents and siblings. I am beyond frustrated that they are helping me out. Don’t get me wrong, they’re all doing great helping me out, but it makes me silently furious at my ex-husband. He should’ve been the one taking me to appointments and helping me pick up medication. He should’ve been the one listening to me worry or help me make decisions. Not my parents.

I have to nix those thoughts each time though, or I’ll spiral. I’ll spiral into a world of anger and regret. It always starts with me thinking that maybe I should have tried harder, or stuck it out longer, or something… something different. And then I remember why I made the final decision to split — because it would not have ever changed. The criticisms. The cheating. The overall toxicity.

And then I remember how terrible he was at taking care of me while I had the flu. I can’t fathom my disappointment of being (not) cared for by him during cancer treatments. And this brings me back to reality that having my family take care of me is way better than not having anyone at all, even if I don’t have a significant other right now.

I don’t like this jealous me right now. I know I could have it much worse. I know my diagnosis is very treatable. I know I won’t be in this “treatment phase” forever.

All I can do is pray away the jealousy with the hope of better days to come.

Stifle Me Not

1-Week Countdown

Breast Cancer, Cancer Sucks, Honesty, Motivation, Positive Attitude, Taking Charge, , , ,

My surgery is in one week. Since being diagnosed, I’ve come a long way mentally. It was a rollercoaster at first. There have been a lot of “hurry up and wait” moments. Last night was my final screening test before my surgery, a CT scan. Just what I wanted to do on a freezing Friday night in January – hang out in the ground floor level (aka basement) Radiology waiting room to drink crap for more body imaging. Luckily, they called me in early, so I didn’t have to wait as long as I thought. On my way home, I gripped the wheel the whole way while driving in cold, windy freezing rain. I told myself this is winter; this is how it is. This is just how it is.

I now have a week to get as much done as possible before surgery. This includes everything with work, home, kids, and informing people that are taking care of me about certain things. Certain things like… hey, here’s a schedule for each kid before, during, and after school… and hey, here’s an envelope to open only if I don’t wake up from my anesthesia.

I don’t have a will. I realize I should have one, but I wasn’t prepared for this. I threw together a quick 2-page document that outlines a few things and wishes, and I intend to revise it, but I don’t have a lawyer to make a significant plan right now. I don’t even have time for surgery. Good thing God is in charge, because I don’t have time for any of this!

I’m still not sure how I’ll stop being my usual active, busy self, but I suppose the music will stop and I’ll just have to stop as well. The last few weekends have been nonstop. This morning I was running around with my kids for about 4 hours. My daughter needed new running shoes and a haircut, and then my son had a soccer game. It’s all basic Saturday errands, but I won’t be able to drive for a few weeks after my surgery, and it’s really bothering me. I understand I won’t even feel well to drive, but I’m just so used to being physically independent to do whatever I want.

I have a mental checklist of all the things I want to do before I’m forced into restriction mode. I have to make sure my bathroom is clean, my floors are vacuumed, my sheets are changed, my laundry is all clean, etc. I’m also making a grocery list. I intend to make a run to Costco next weekend, so we’re stocked up on school snacks and toiletries, etc. I have an oil change scheduled for my car mid-week. I want to get a couple of books. It’s all basic stuff, many things that I do regularly anyhow, but I have the extra stress of knowing I won’t be able to freely do these things for about a month after my surgery.

Well, here we go, it’s a 1-week countdown to getting a mastectomy and reconstruction. Let’s hope I tackle everything and then some, so I can get the healing process started. This hard, but my mindset is in a good place right now. It helps that I have a wonderful family and friends checking on me. My prayers are more focused on “God, take these worries and anxieties away” more than anything else. Well, other than “God, please protect my kids throughout their day”.

Lately it feels like, if I can just subside the fear of what’s to come, I can get to it and through it.

Stifle Me Not

Not Alone

Breast Cancer, Cancer Sucks, Hope, ,

I’ve had some time to absorb my new health news, the news that I apparently have cancer. Cancer – what a word. It sounds like you’re dying before you even know you have it. It sounds awful. It makes people shudder. The actual word is uncomfortable to say and hear, and I’ve been trying to get used to knowing that I have it.

And what is cancer? It’s your body not handling its own cells properly. It’s your own body, gene mutation or not, overgrowing cells. We’ve conditioned ourselves to fear multiplying cells. The underlying reason behind the cells being out of control, and the degree of the aggressiveness of the cells, is all key to starting a treatment plan. But man, your gut instinct is to fear the worst.

Somehow, in the past couple of weeks, I’ve evened out. I’ve moved into the acceptance phase. I have two weeks until surgery, and I know as much information as possible at this point in the process. I’m noticing others around me are moving in the acceptance phase too. It’s weird. I still feel stuck in the twilight zone, like what is actually happening? But I’m not afraid like I was initially. I’m ready to push forward, keeping in mind that the pace of my brain may not be the same pace as my body.

Yesterday at work, I found out a co-worker of mine is having surgery next week after discovering a nodule on her lung. Lung cancer. She just found out the night before. I could see and feel the fear in her eyes. She was trying to be very matter of fact about it and trying to focus on her work. She kept telling me she was more worried about my condition and my upcoming surgery. Ugh, no, no one’s condition or surgery is better or worse than the other. I’ve never understood someone’s underlying feelings more in a moment than when she came in my office to tell me her news. Her cancer news.

I’ve had some time to absorb my news, but she only has a week to absorb her news.

This woman with lung cancer, she has been at our company for about 25 years. When I first started, 5 years ago, I didn’t like her. She was a know-it-all and rude. She always tried to be a hard ass. I quickly discovered she was a product of being one of the only female managers in a 100-year-old company – she developed copying mechanisms to keep up with/put up with all the personalities of the hard ass male managers over the years. When I came to the company, she wasn’t very kind on more than once occasion, and I let her have it right back. I wasn’t putting up with her negativity. A few years ago, the president was ready to terminate her. He’d had it with her negativity too and was ready to part ways with her.

A colleague of mine, and her direct manager, were called in to give our thoughts on her being terminated. It was tempting, I didn’t like her, but I knew the company would suffer without her, and I thought maybe she could improve if given the chance. I knew my perspective in my position was powerful and I could cause her professional damage if I didn’t tread carefully. The other manager and I insisted on keeping her. I wasn’t sure if it was worth pushing back at the time, but I’m glad I did. We witnessed her really working on herself over the past few years. She has turned into a whole new person, she shed the negativity, and I’ve really gotten to know her much better.

I’m very sorry to hear of her cancer news. But I kind of feel like we have this new bond. This understanding that no one else gets. I truly hope she comes out of this okay. And I know she feels the same way for me.

God has more prayers coming to him, and they aren’t for me this time.

Stifle Me Not