I was one of those who followed blindly but needed someone to kick my butt, in the right way. When Aunt Lynda was on her 7th cancer diagnosis if I recall correctly, I begged her to get a second opinion. My plea fell on deaf ears even though I pushed harder the last 2 and final times. She had accepted her fate, RIGHTFULLY so! For ten years, 9 cancers, and NO pain meds (she was afraid to become an addict =(. I needed me to kick my butt. Cancer treatment is subjective and I didn’t head my own advice leaving a plethora of disasters in its wake. Cancer itself comes with a huge cross. I feel bad when I don’t get in the groups and try to help people struggling with feeding tubes, thrush, radiation ulcers. Then I try to touch base with the aneurysm survivors to offer assistance there. I’m not perfect and I never will be. I have days that I can’t bare to think about my medical horrors so I won’t respond. Of course I feel bad and have overcompensate.
Giving and being selfish has always been a struggle, but now my short term memory is unpredictable, like my health. Life’s a bitch isn’t it?