As for healing, what if they took the soldiers who survived D-Day, and told them that every year they’d have to go back to Normandy and fight their way across the beach again. Every bone in your body would be crying out: No, not that! Not again! Not Omaha Beach!

Patients have to keep reminding themselves that doctors and nurses are helping them, not torturing them.

It is disturbing to find just how unoriginal my thinking is. Recently my husband and I have been talking about this very movie a lot. I am still weepy all of the time and I so appreciate that by being articulate about your experience I can at least amancipate myself from the fear that if I don’t force myself into ATTEMPTING “positive thinking” lest I kill myself with my negativity.

I’ve been reading over some of some random notes I’ve jotted down over the last 16+ months in an attempt to finally settle down and work on the piece for Lynn. Everything I had was in third person. Everything. Classic PTSD depersonalization…fantastic. The prickly thing about this trauma, is it is ongoing. That is the part that makes psychological “healing” so much more improbable, or at the very least, elusive…but we’re expected to ignore the stats right?

Thanks for everything,
Your voice in the world does more than you can imagine,
Christina

I don’t know much about kidney cancer, but I do know that cancer is unpredictable. Just today I heard about a liver cancer patient that supposedly had a few weeks to live. She’s now in her 17th year, still in remission.

After cancer is a good time to live one day at a time: This morning I’ll wake up and have a good day. Or maybe a not-so-good day. But by golly, I’ll have a day!

You’ll be in my thoughts. Take care.