24 Hours of Cancer

(Lynn) My mom said something great today at 4 o'clock: "24 more hours, and you don't have cancer anymore". In all the worry about the surgery and what it means, combined with the focus on the chances of recurrence, I'd forgotten all about this simple fact. The chemo knocked the cancer down to a (flat) golf ball sized lump, and the surgery will scoop out the remnants. Although there may be microscopic cancer cells circulating around my body, the cancer I've come to know so intimately over the last four months will be gone.

All I can say is, it has been a long week.

I've spent a long time looking in the mirror, both figuratively and literally. For me, dealing with cancer has meant 'going in', as my cousin says. Going inside my own perceptions about myself and the world, listening to my (constantly changing) feelings, and trying to regain equilibrium. On any given day, I am despondent, raging, resigned, and peaceful. This week has been the worst, emotionally, though I have felt the best physically.

The best part of the week has been the incredible outpouring of love and support we've received from every corner of the earth. I really needed you all this week, and you've been amazing. I am ready for the surgery tomorrow...I can't say excited, but I am as ready as I can be. It is just a change from one form to a new form. Caterpillars do it all the time, so how hard can it be?

(Zack) To the business at hand -- All of you have inquired about location information and timeframes. We know that we will be at the hospital until later in the day on Tuesday. I will post once I have more information on rooms, but here's the basics:

Lake Forest Hospital
660 North Westmoreland Rd
Lake Forest, IL 60045
847.234.5600

Thanks again to everyone for their support this far. This is a major step for us (but mostly Lynn). It has meant the world that you have been with us.



Something to focus your thoughts for the next 24 hours....