I can't remember how it happened, but tonight I accidentally clicked back to a previous post of mine, the "Control" post. I don't reread what I post here. That post was over 6 months old. Control (or loss of control) was one of my biggest cancer hurdles...and so I reread my post. I noticed that post had recieved comments, so I reread the comments.I truly appreciate comments, and one of the comments was written by another woman with a rare cancer, gall bladder cancer, who also had a blog. This was her comment to my post.
Carolyn - I do not have cancer of the appendix, although I know of two people who do, so I had known that it's a rare cancer. I also have a rare cancer, gallbladder cancer, and I found your website through Sean's Sharing our Days site. I like how he links blogs to different illnesses, and expands our network of connection. I do face the questions about control and having a terminal diagnosis, and how to live my life that's left. I am 8 months post diagnosis, had a period of being asymptomatic, and now have a recurence in my abdomen where my gallbladder was. As a result, I've started chemo, and entered the world of worrying about side effects. These questions are so big, and living life one day at a time really is a hard thing. I, too, have a blog, and I'm always hoping that other folks who have my rare cancer will find it. My site is Life Changing Cancer at www.dahlborg.blogspot.com. I appreciate what you are doing in telling your story and providing resources and links for others with your diagnosis.
I decided to check Lynne's blog tonight to see how she was doing, I hadn't read it in awhile.
Lynne Dahlborg died July 15th of this year.
We connected only for a moment but shared a lot. I cried when I read the last entries to her blog. Then I read her obiturary, and it was probably the best obituary I've ever read. It was truly a tribute to the person she was, it was a celebration of her life. She was a person I would have liked to have known. Here is an exerpt from her obitary:
"On her 59th birthday last year, Lynne Dahlborg went tubing with her children down the rocky course of the Virgin River near Utah's Zion National Park. Doctors had told her a few weeks earlier that she had a rare terminal cancer and removed her gallbladder.
"Like life, the river kept going, and my surrender was part of living and healing and knowing that I could survive even the sharpest rocks and deepest drops," Ms. Dahlborg wrote, using the river as a metaphor for her cancer and strong faith that God would heal her spirit.
Her complete obituary is at:
Lynne, I'm glad the sharp rocks and deep drops are behind you now. And I look forward to when I will get to really meet you.