ErinC1973

Randy, I know this is VERY late, but the sentiment is still the same. My mom died from NSCLC 16 days after Deb. My dad died from NSCLC 11 years ago September 2. It really ,really hurts...still. God bless you, friend.

SO very sad to hear this Rest in peace, Rich.

Oh, no. This is devastating news. My thoughts and prayers are with her family. This site will not be the same without her.

Oh, no. This is devastating news. My thoughts and prayers are with her family. This site will not be the same without her.

I am very sorry to read this

Carleen, I am glad you posted but at the same time, sad to read your post. You had such a perfect marriage with Keith. I wish so much that your life together was not cut short by this stupid disease. It was a life that was really only just beginning. It makes me sick to think of how much we've all been forced to change due to LC.

Oh, no. My heart is hurting to have to read this. This is a tremendous loss for all of us, but I especially am thinking of her kids. She was such an inspiration to all those affected by LC, and she certainly made her mark in history by participating in all of the clinical trials. I am proud to have known her through these boards and through Kasey and Fred's stories and praise. I pray for her family; may God give them strength through this difficult time. I am just so sad

This is just too much... I am so very, very sorry to read this.

Christine, I am so sorry. I lost both of my parents to NSCLC, also. It's been 2 years since my mom died and I am still walking around in a daze. You are in my thoughts and prayers. It is so very, very hard.

I have costochondritis as a side effect of Fibromyalgia. It is very alarming, to say the least! Mine begins at the 3rd rib, and has been radiating out towards my right shoulder. I guess it's more common to radiate towards the left. Typically the pain is supposed to last a couple of weeks to six months, but mine waxes and wanes; it started last April and was steady until the beginning of the year. Then it went away, and has been back for awhile. Some days I can't even raise my arm over my head. I am on many other pain meds (Ultram, Lyrica, Voltaren, Cymbalta) but I can only say that when the pain is at its worst, no meds touch it.

Ernie, I am praying for great results today!!!

My mom went to CTCA. I absolutely cannot say enough positive things about that place, and neither could my mom. I have lived through both parents being diagnosed with stage IIIB NSCLC, my dad first in 1998. He died in 9/99. My mom said all along that she wished so deeply that we knew about CTCA when he was diagnosed. They treated not only my mom, but my husband, my kids, and my best friend (Who was, for all intents and purposes) my mom's caregiver) like gold. They set up all of our appointments, made hotel arrangements when necessary, and dealt with the insurance companies every step of the way. As far as it being a "joke," I have to respectfully disagree. My mom's oncologist, Dr. Citrin, is a world-renowned PhD. His impressive stats are as follows: Dr. Citrin joined CTCA in 2004 with more than three decades of oncology experience. He was Director of Inpatient Oncology and assistant professor of medicine at the University of California in San Diego. He then served as associate professor of medicine at the Albert Einstein College of Medicine in New York City before joining the faculty of Northwestern University Medical School in Chicago as an associate professor of medicine in 1982. He also served as Medical Director for a year at Mt. Sinai Hospital North in Chicago. Board certified, Dr. Citrin received his medical training at the University of Glasgow in Glasgow, Scotland. He also completed an oncology fellowship program at the University of Wisconsin in Madison. We felt absolutely HONORED to be in his presence, and felt as though he really took time with us at each and every visit, and respected us and our opinions. One thing I must stress: CTCA is an INTEGRATIVE medicine hospital. This is why they get a lot of upturned noses. The doctors work side-by-side with alternative therapies, which you normally don't see. When my dad was diagnosed, we were scared $h!tless, and didn't know which way to turn, because if you look towards alternative therapies, everyone will tell you, "Don't do chemo, you will poison your body!" and if you go to your oncologist, he/she will say, "alternative medicine-pushers are quacks! Stay away from them!" At CTCA, it is a beautiful balance of both. And personally, when we learned of first my dad's and then my mom's diagnoses, I felt that if someone had told me that perhaps standing on my head half the day might help slow the progression of cancer cells, I would have had my parents flipped over on their heads in a second. Additionally, having been to my dad's clinic/hospital when he was diagnosed, I know from experience that a doctor may say, "You have cancer. You have 'x' months to live. Here is your chemo schedule." And basically, you deal with the impact this will have on you physically, emotionally, not to mention what it will do to your family. At CTCA, my mom had a phsychotherapist, who magically appeared at the door to her hospital room each month she was admitted for chemo. She also helped me; I had many private sessions with her. My mom had a nutritionist who tailored her diet according to her very difficult needs as a dialysis/chemotherapy patient. And it seemed that the whole town was "CTCA-friendly;" the hotel gave patients a substantial discount, plus their restaurant offered a patient menu full of fresh , healthy approved foods. We met lots of patients and their families there and formed instant, lifelong bonds. We were honestly treated as though we were their only patient and family. And now, I will say emphatically, I do NOT work there! And yes, my mom passed away in 2006. But the last time she saw her oncologist, he told her, "I am not ready to give up." I don't remember who said that they heard that CTCA will not take late-stage patients because they bring their stats down, but I can say from experience that this is definitely not true. I've been in the waiting room with countless late-stage patients. Good luck to the OP.

There are just no words, Julia. He will certainly be missed around here. My prayers are with you.

Congratulations, Nick! She is just beautiful, and one lucky little baby to have such a caring and sensitive daddy. I know it's hard, but you do realize your mom is surrounding her in love, don't you? Remembering this will get you through the difficult times, I promise. Cherish every single moment.

Two years ago, right about this time, the phone rang and woke us from a sound sleep. Before I opened my eyes I knew what it was. "She's...not responding. Please come here." Tonight, the rest of the family is asleep. I am wide awake, shaking...it's silly, I know, but I just can't stop thinking about how you died...and the fact that I wasn't there. Ian sleeps soundly in his crib. Two years ago he wouldn't have been born for three more weeks. Mikkel and Saoirse are growing so quickly. Our family dynamics have changed so drastically. New home...new job...new baby...no Mom. Mom, in so many ways I miss you much more now than one year ago. My body aches for you. I am struggling through many days. I know I should be happy; you were so proud of our family. I am trying to get there but it's so very hard! My wonderful, beautiful Mom. I wish you a happy anniversary. Love, your Baby Girl.

I had mine out last January; I am 34. I have gotten Strep every year since I was about 12 until I had them out, including a few years where I had it a few times. I had it both times I was pregnant and had to go on antibiotics. In '06 I was sick from the week before Easter until the following January, when I had them removed. A few ER trips the culture was positive, but many times it was negative. I only had one six week period where I did not have a sore throat during that whole time. And I mean SORE. Like not being able to even swallow my own saliva. But that was my only symptom. I went to two ENT's who said..."wellll...you CAN have them out..." and then kind of just left the room. My last ER trip I had to be rehydrated intravenously, and the doctor referred me to another ENT, who was great and said there was no question I needed my tonsils out. That was my 14th surgery, and I really was not nervous at all, because I figured I had been in unbearable pain already, what could be worse? Then I saw the nurse practitioner, who gave me all of my pre-op info, and a script for liquid Vicodin. It then hit me that I wouldn't even be able to swallow a PILL, it was going to be so bad. But still, I figured, a few days of pain was worth it. Then she said I would be in a lot of pain for about two weeks. She said the first few days would be okay, but then when the scabs started forming it would hurt worse, and plateau at the beginning of the second week. She told me I would need to have help come in for my kids. My husband was taking a week off of work, but she told me I needed him to take that second week, too. And it was bad; I slept a LOT, because the meds made me sleepy, and then I'd wake up and feel a bit hungry, but also in pain, so I'd take another dose of Vicodin, and then think of what I'd rather do--sleep or eat--and I'd just fall asleep again. When I went back for my checkup I had to get a liquid to swish around and gargle because they warned me since I was not eating I was not sloughing off the scabs, which was necessary to heal. All in all, I did begin to get depressed when I was still not better in that second week, but then I did start healing. I thought I'd be less apt to get sick, but no such luck. I still get sore throats ALL the time. I went to the ER before Christmas with such a sore throat, and I had the flu. I told the doctor that I thought I had gotten rid of all of those problems when I had my tonsils out. But my tonsils weren't the problem--my uvula was swollen like a cherry, so much so that it was obstructing my airway. He put me on Z-pac, and do you know that I STILL have a sore throat? I'm pretty depressed, to say the least. I am seeing my rheumatologist in February and I'm sure we'll have to talk about other options. I feel like I went through that painful surgery for nothing! If you do have it done, the best advice I can give is that no matter what anyone says about having all the ice cream you want, you probably won't want it. It hurt too badly. I ate nothing but Campbell's Soup-to-Go, the drinkable kind. It was very soothing. I looked at it like I look at any other surgery/procedure I have to have done: it only hurts for a little while! Good luck!

Oh, Stephanie! I am so sorry about your precious mom. She did lots of amazing things in the short time during her diagnosis and treatment. What a warrior she was. I am sad this happened just shy of her two-year mark. I can tell by the way she wrote in her journal, she was just like my mom. God bless her.

Stephanie: I am just so very very sorry. I have been away for awhile but I wanted to let you know you and your mom are in my thoughts and prayers. YOUR MOM IS A FIGHTER. Look at all she has done already! There is no reason why she can't take it a step further and prove the doctors wrong. I know how hard this is. Never give up hope.

Pat, I thought of you on New Year's Day. I am sorry I haven't been around. Tuesday was the 23 month mark of my mom's death. I don't know if you feel this way, but for two New Year's Eves now (and so hard to believe even as I type that) I will the clock to move more slowly, dreading midnight so much because it just means the beginning of a new year that my mom is not with me. Does this make sense? At least I could say I still had my mom in the year 2006. I guess it's more that each day that passes means that her memory gets further from me. It HURTS. Brian looks so much like my stepdad Howie; tall, slim, glasses, big smile. I hope that Brian has met Howie and my mom, and they are laughing together, all pain-free...as it should be.

God, I just hate this disease so much! Leslie, I am so sorry for what you're going through. My mom was my very best friend and confidant, and when she died, there were tiny little glimpses of when I thought I'd be okay, because she was finally PAIN FREE, but when I start to think about living the rest of my life without her--possibly fifty years or more--it feels like someone is choking me. And it has been almost 20 months since she died. I don't anticipate feeling better about this--nor do I WANT to--for a long time. My mom was such a beautiful person and I do not understand why she had to suffer so much throughout her life. And it is killing me inside. What I CAN tell you is the one thing that eases my pain just a bit to help me get through each day, is the very intense feeling that my mom has wrapped herself around me and is protecting me all day, every day. I lost my dad to LC in '99 and I didn't feel this intense feeling after his loss. I am an only child and I have all of my mom's things, so I cherish them; I wear her clothes and jewelry, I lose myself in the things she wrote, even if it was just her checkbook register. I allow myself to cry whenever I feel the need. The pain is immense, but I look at it as a gift of how much we loved each other. If I didn't have this pain I would be empty inside. All that being said, there is NO way to prepare for a loved one's death. I've been there countless times with close family, and the pain is like scratching the same scab off over and over again so it never completely heals. I suppose that, even though I am known to be an eternal pessimist, when it came to my family, I never EVER gave up hope that they would get better. So I truly believe that there is LOTS of hope for your dad to get better and continue making this world a better place. I know it's hard to keep a chin up now, and I know that pit in your stomach that you feel every moment of every day, waiting for the phone to ring. But this place is the best place to be right now, where people understand and will not judge you. We will do our best to hold you up right now. I personally can't guarantee that I'll do the best job of that because of where I am right now in my grief, but I can guarantee that I will respond to you and help the best I can. You don't need to apologize for expressing your feelings. That's why this site is here. All the best,

Kim, Whew. I am just so in awe of how well you express yourself in this post. I can relate to SO MUCH of what you said, although I have never felt "angry," persay, just "defeated." I still feel this way, and Saturday will mark 20 months since my mom's death. I still have trouble believing she is gone, however, because it seems very wrong to me that I still walk this earth when my mother is not here beside me. I, too, feel as though it is my fault that she is gone and that I didn't do all I could for her. I STILL FEEL THIS WAY. But I also feel like my mother suffered enough, already! It was one major illness after another for her. This past Saturday, her birthday, I started to say, "She is better off," but I changed it to "I HOPE she is better off," because if anyone deserves a reward after their life on earth, it is my mom. I personally think that it is your ex-boyfriend who is missing out, because even if you are repressing emotions, it is your body's defense mechanism (Which I feel is a wonderful thing, by the way) and it holds you up during these difficult times. You will know when is the right time to pick up the pieces, and no one can tell you otherwise. When that happens, you will be a better person for it, ready to accept love and give love yourself in a way you never have before. I do feel as though I am at this point in my life, although I still have a lot of other emotions to work on in the meantime. I have been married for twelve years so my husband has seen it all from me; I have buried all of my close family in these past twelve years. I am also an only child. During her treatment, my mom also gave me all of the credit for getting her to the best cancer center. She told me through tears, "You are my rock, Erin." Since the day of her death, I have felt that my mom has wrapped herself around me, protecting me, loving me. I don't ever feel like she is spying on me, or judging me. I just feel SAFE. I am glad you came back here! It is hard to be here at times, I know. On the other hand, I have met some of the most wonderful people on here and in person, and these are friendships that I will cherish forever. And, by the way, I had my husband print out all of my mom's posts from here and put them in an envelope and seal it, along with a couple of very strong and touching emails she sent me. I have yet to go back to read them. YOU WILL BE OKAY. All my best to you,

I bought a card for you. I am getting ready to go to the cemetery to put flowers on your grave. I hate that I can't give your card to you. I hate that I have to stand go to the store with a sense of dread, not wanting to go to the "Mom" section, which is filled with cards that say things like, "I'm so lucky to have you to talk to." This should have been the start of our new and wonderful life--all of us--that we were so looking forward to. I hope that you are getting that new and wonderful life, even if I'm not a part of it. My Beautiful Mom, I love you so much. Happy, Happy Birthday. I hope you and Howie and Nana and Grandpa have a wonderful day together.

I am just so very sorry. Please know that we care here, and always will. I lost both of my parents to this disease, but I would never stop coming here...you are all my friends, and will be forever. I just wish it didn't have to be this way, for any of us.

I am really so very sorry to hear all that is going on in your life right now. It really just stinks. I've been through this with both parents...and it just STINKS. My dad's oncologist had TERRIBLE bedside manner. He went for chemo and was treated like a number. He always felt terrible but never felt as though he could speak up about it, because everyone there made him feel as though they were annoyed to have him there. When my mom was diagnosed, I signed her out of the hospital and took her directly to Cancer Treatment Centers of America. In short, my mom used to cry because she wished that we had known about them when my dad was in treatment. She actually ENJOYED when it was time for her to check in for chemo; she said it was like a 3-day vacation! And not one single time did anyone EVER act like she should give up. I have no advice about the fatigue...I just hope that your mom has better days coming. My prayers are with you! If you ever need anything, we are very close to you.

I like Adrian's answer.