First, thank you for sharing this experience in your inimitable way. It sounds like you found the right doctor at just the right time and that you are on your way to kicking the cancer’s ass.

My mother survived breast cancer twice–four years apart. It occurred once in each breast and–in each case–was detected early, was limited to a sentinel node, and was successfully treated by lumpectomy, radiation, and some chemo.

The one thing that I caught as a former Army medic that she did not know was that the first surgeon to which she was referred tried to use her to get his certification in performing sentinel node biopsies followed by lumpectomy. To do so, he needed to perform a dozen or so biopsies and lumpectomies followed by radical resection of the lymph nodes to confirm his correct performance of the less invasive procedure. I realized his plan rather early on and we sought a second opinion at a regional cancer center that used an integrated approach to patient care. The surgeon, radiation specialist, chemo specialist, nurses, and cancer specialist all use a team approach to patient treatment. This made her ordeal much, much more bearable and, dare I say, routine the second time she had to go through it.

I look forward to reading your dispatches for many years to come and will keep you in my thoughts as you meet this challenge head on.

You’re already a fighter, Xeni, and after this, you’ll be ready to take on the world.

Try to keep a sense of humor about the situation, if you can. Some of the worst times for me were also, oddly, the ones that made for the best jokes, which helped to ease the pain (both physical and emotional).

I look forward to reading your posts for many many years to come.

You will find a huge support network of survivors stepping up to you to say “me too.” Use their experience to guide you through the tests and procedures, and take them with you to your doctor. They know questions you do not.

Your friends and family and even strangers will step up to help. I have learned that grace abounds, and it awaits moments like this to express itself. You are an intelligent and capable woman, no doubt used to the privilege of being the one to help. It will be difficult and humbling, but I urge you, let them help you. Give others the gift of being needed, and offer only your thanks in return. There is no balancing of this scale. But later, you will be one to step up and say “me too,” and you will have the privilege of helping.

Finally, find someone with whom you can laugh—even or especially about cancer. Laughter changes your body chemistry, and besides, it feels good. 

Wishing you laughter, love and long life.

You have now brought tears to the eyes of total strangers. If somehow we could share a piece of our strength with you, even lose a bit of ourselves, you know we would do it in a heartbeat. I hope our concern, our prayers, our good thoughts, our love, has some effect and helps speed you to full recovery. Praying, hoping, wishing for peace, strength, and health for you.

It is strange being sad about your cancer when I only know you from your posts.

keep ya head up, Xeni.

It is, Xeni. That’s why I’m still here (9 years out from non-Hodgkins’). And with everything I’ve seen in these comments, you have no shortage of lifelines/lovelines tethering you to this world.

More love,

jenabel

I’m pulling for you, Xeni. Stay positive, stay strong.

I’m a 46 year old guy who just found out 3 weeks ago I have stage 4 Hodgkin’s. Started chemo last week. Thank you for sharing, and helping me to put this thing into words.

Looking forward to reading about your recovery as I find my way towards my own.