Oh no… I’m so sorry!
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Not sure if messing with Photoshop is the best way to keep my mind off things, but I had to do a Rainbow Bridge.
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Oh no.
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Dude, you had me bawling with the Rubber Ducky song.
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Words cannot convey how much she will be missed 
. Coming across a Princess post on the BBS always made my day so much better, the love you gave to her shone through every picture.
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So very sorry. Reading of her passing sent a chill down my spine… I’m picturing a (very polite) warrior princess seated at Valhalla with nothing but the choicest kibble laid before her.
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Now cracks a noble heart.
Good night, sweet princess, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!
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I am so sorry, her highness will be missed.
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@nemomen: sorry about the little creature. I’ve never met a hedgehog, but they seem sweet (also artistic and much more ambitious than I would have guessed…)
My fuck today contributions (for a sufficiently broad definition of “today”):
- More cancer in the family. Looks like a bad one (two for one, actually).
- Tried to stand up under an open window, did not succeed. Scalp now contains a puncture shaped like the corner of the window. Ow.
- All of France is celebrating football while I try to sleep.
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I’m so sorry… all that sucks, but especially cancer…
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I just saw this news. I’m so very, very sorry for your loss. 
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This may perhaps be more easily grokked when on less or possibly no morphine. OTOH, please let me say that the following may be taken with a rather large grain of salt if one places zero value on Various Alternative Health Therapies [Such As They Are].
Ever heard of Louise Hay? Well, even if your answer is “no” and even though this quote is going to sound extremely obvious to anyone who has been reading about your eventful few months recently…
Louise Hays [sic] states that the pancreas represents sweetness in our life and cancer represents deep hurt and long standing resentment. This withholding of sweetness is akin to grief. One can say that it is the inability to breakdown and digest life – pull the sweetness out of it, the richness and the nutritive aspects. When stress and resentment builds up we limit our resources we have available to heal and to think clearly and prosperously. We don’t need to hold in our pain and grief, with the right support they can be released.
src= http://www.selfgrowth.com/articles/pancreas_protector_provider_and_manufacturer
My psychotherapist kept a copy of Hay’s book on her table, and from time to time when we were in session, I would mention my knees, or my neck, etc. and would wince to see her open that dang book up, look up knees (or neck or whatever)… and this usually resulted in the fastest, most accurate drilldown (argh!) through the many layers of crap we’d work on together. Dangit.
Pancreatitis: Rejection. Anger and frustration because life seems to have lost its sweetness.
src= Causes of symptoms according to Louise Hay | The Alchemy of Healing
I completely reject the malarkey folks tell me about how terrible terminal disease patients create their own illnesses, or that a child with bone cancer somehow has himself to blame. Co-factors too many to count figure into each person’s total health. But I’m certain there is a mind-body connection in human health.
With gratitude for what you bring to us here in the past, present and future,
and with sincere wishes for your healing and deep support from your allies near and far,
I wish you good luck Sir.
Be well.
ETA: added noun, preposition for clarity
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I am not going to delve deeply into mind-body connections in regards to illness, other than to say this was the loudest wakeup call I’ve ever experienced. There isn’t much like a 30% mortality rate (based on my family history and how severe it was), begging for water for two days (which I couldn’t have), and needing to schedule a consult with an oncologist this week to… how do you say…?
Really put shit in perspective 
Right now I feel absolutely wonderful. Calm, centered, clear headed, and only some pain.
Also, you mutants aren’t getting rid of me that easily 
Eta
Every time I went to the bathroom I stuck my head under the faucet and gulped as much as I could. I figure the staff knew what I was doing. I didn’t care.
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Not in the same league, but thyroid cancer survivor here. Cancer goddamn sucks, but it does center the mind. Since like me, maybe you deal with shit by learning as much as possible, here’s a great Radiolab episode on tumors.
Also, fuck tomorrow, because I like to get a head start on the week.
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I know there will never be a Cure For Cancer–thats as ridiculous as saying there’s gonna be a Cure For Jeff’s, it doesn’t make sense–but there are quite a few, thyroid included, that are common enough more research could pay huge dividends.
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My impulsive brain is overriding my hesitance to interrupt an otherwise flowing conversation on life and death matters because it desperately wants to know how the ever-loving fuck this person was allowed to practice.
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I know what part of that was like. In the days before I gave birth to my creature (if that’s the correct term for a c section, she exited my body either way) I was allowed to drink to 20ml of water a hour. No more than that. I also wasn’t allowed to get up. I had a catheter in and they were pumping magnesium sulfate into me. I wasn’t allowed to eat until they weren’t going to operate that day, so I usually only got dinners. They were checking my blood pressure every hour, night and day.
It was well over a year ago but I still remember the misery of those 3 days.
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Oh, it’d be more of a surprise to me if there wasn’t.
I don’t think that chiropractors can cure colds by doing spinal adjustments (seriously, that’s a thing, which is why I think chiropractors are “witch doctors,” a term my sister has yelled at me for using), but I have no doubt that having a sound body makes it easier to keep a sound mind, and vice versa.
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And unrelated story: In Toronto, Ontario, midwives are a common alternative to doctors for routine births, but when you go elsewhere in the province they are a lot less common and people sometimes view them as weird alternative medicine. I was talking with a midwife about that one day, and how I felt like it was weird that people from Ottawa seemed to think midwives were “witch doctors”. The midwife said, “Well, we are.”
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