Diagnosis: Cancer

Thank you so much for sharing your story. I've looked at the palette often and I momentarily wonder why I didn't emphasize the flesh colors more. And then I remember it is the very surreal experience that surrounds the diagnosis itself that I wanted to convey - the grey and the black representing the dull, depressing and grim atmosphere that you have described.

The decision to take chemo was a very difficult one for my mother. She kept asking everyone what she should do. Her oncologist wrongly suggested that she shouldn't think about anyone but herself in the decision-making process. In addition to dealing with the chemo drug that she eventually decided to take for five years (she's just beginning year three), my father has full-blown Alzheimer's. So, while the chemo seems to be doing more damage to her body than the cancer itself, she also lives with a certain dread and anxiety that each day my dad will always present another challenge. She so far has refused to relinquish even the slightest control over his care.

My parents moved from FL to NC in May this year to be closer to us. There are days where I have to remind my mother that she can't keep defining herself by the diagnosis. And, though I believe God has great confidence in her having given her two "burdens" - no more than she can handle, I have to remind myself that in totality it can nonetheless be discouraging.

I pray your cancer remains in remission and that you are (mostly, if not always), now living above the diagnosis.

God bless you and keep you and I pray His joy will always be the song in your heart.

A gift for you:


Rockinfreakapotamus wrote:

The day I was diagnosed with terminal cancer & told I only had a few months to live was the weirdest day of my life. I would say most difficult, or most terrifying, except I was already in shock by that point due to the events leading up to the diagnosis, so the whole thing was just very surreal, at least until later. I am reminded every day what a miracle it is that I am here at all... But I can also never forget that cancer is hard, & scary, & ugly, to say the very least!

This palette reminds me of how somber everyone was right after my diagnosis, coming into my hospital room to visit, speaking only in hushed tones, not laughing or smiling much, somehow even managing to make the beautiful, colorful flower arrangements & stuffed animals filling my room look very dull & depressing & grim... Until I finally got fed up & said, "I'm not dead yet, for Peter's sake!! You're visiting me in the hospital, not at my funeral, so please stop being so serious & start acting like yourselves again!" I told them I needed to laugh & joke around like usual or I'd never have the strength or energy it would require to fight the stupid disease. So they straightened up & my hospital room became bright & pretty instead of gray & painful like this palette, as it had been. Then I was able to pretend the doctors hadn't said I was dying, & that I had every chance in the world at recovery. (Okay, it was a little hard to pretend when they had my family sit down with me & talk about my final wishes, & what I wanted my funeral to be like & such... But most of the time I could, lol.)

Even when things were brightened up for my sake, though, I know that outside of my hospital room, when my family or friends were away from me, they saw things in these colors you've chosen. And on my hardest days, when I couldn't pretend anymore, this is what the world looked like to me, too. You captured it perfectly. I'm very, very sorry you & your family ever had to see this palette. : ( *big hugs*

The day I was diagnosed with terminal cancer & told I only had a few months to live was the weirdest day of my life. I would say most difficult, or most terrifying, except I was already in shock by that point due to the events leading up to the diagnosis, so the whole thing was just very surreal, at least until later. I am reminded every day what a miracle it is that I am here at all... But I can also never forget that cancer is hard, & scary, & ugly, to say the very least!

This palette reminds me of how somber everyone was right after my diagnosis, coming into my hospital room to visit, speaking only in hushed tones, not laughing or smiling much, somehow even managing to make the beautiful, colorful flower arrangements & stuffed animals filling my room look very dull & depressing & grim... Until I finally got fed up & said, "I'm not dead yet, for Peter's sake!! You're visiting me in the hospital, not at my funeral, so please stop being so serious & start acting like yourselves again!" I told them I needed to laugh & joke around like usual or I'd never have the strength or energy it would require to fight the stupid disease. So they straightened up & my hospital room became bright & pretty instead of gray & painful like this palette, as it had been. Then I was able to pretend the doctors hadn't said I was dying, & that I had every chance in the world at recovery. (Okay, it was a little hard to pretend when they had my family sit down with me & talk about my final wishes, & what I wanted my funeral to be like & such... But most of the time I could, lol.)

Even when things were brightened up for my sake, though, I know that outside of my hospital room, when my family or friends were away from me, they saw things in these colors you've chosen. And on my hardest days, when I couldn't pretend anymore, this is what the world looked like to me, too. You captured it perfectly. I'm very, very sorry you & your family ever had to see this palette. : ( *big hugs*