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86 points

Perspective

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We've had a terrible year for cancer too especially on Mrs Parsnip's side.

One thing I will say is that there's hope no matter what the initial prognosis. Her Dad in particular has made a miraculous recovery after having the surgery that his own doctor advised him not to put himself through, such were the odds stacked against him.

All the best to you and your family @86 points x

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6 minutes ago, Parsnip said:

We've had a terrible year for cancer too especially on Mrs Parsnip's side.

One thing I will say is that there's hope no matter what the initial prognosis. Her Dad in particular has made a miraculous recovery after having the surgery that his own doctor advised him not to put himself through, such were the odds stacked against him.

All the best to you and your family @86 points x

Thanks @Parsnip It's a terrible disease but research is slowly starting to win more battles, if not the war itself. Cancer took my mum very early in her life, one of the reasons I think I completely freaked at the recent new,s but that was a long time ago now and I think in many cases the prognosis is far more positive. I'm holding onto that thought right now and given the old boy played 18 holes yesterday, it's clear he's not curling up just yet in any case!  

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On 20/11/2018 at 16:12, 86 points said:

Week from hell. Fortnight actually. Trying to get lawyers to pull their fingers out of their backsides on a property purchase, wisdom teeth making me want to tear half my face off, into third week of broadband issues... Very much an FML kind of period then. What else can go wrong, I found myself thinking. So then it not only rained, but it poured.

First, I got a call from my sister. Our step-brother’s wife had passed away. Transpires she was diagnosed with lung cancer a few months back but the family decided not to broadcast the news, as is their right. She went downhill fast and lost the unequal fight on Sunday night. Instead of going to a wedding this weekend, I’ll now be attending a funeral.

Fast forward a day and a half and whilst discussing arrangements with the old man, he drops the bombshell that he’s being biopsied tomorrow as it looks likely he has prostrate cancer. He too had decided not to say anything but felt that he should at this point. True hardman that I am, I burst out crying over the phone, like that’s really gonna help. WTF Pete, really! 

Sat here now thinking about stuff, mainly my thought processes these last few months and generally questioning my whole value system – what really matters and what really doesn’t. Suffice to say there’s been a seismic change in my mindset. Now I’m left thinking that I’m going to try and be the best I can be for dad, my stepbro for everyone I hold dear but I can’t help thinking why does it take events like these for me to think this way? I really can’t answer that one. I suppose I could if I wanted to, but the truth hurts, doesn’t it?

So there you have it folks, perspective. My advice from my personal little pit of despair is that if there’s anyone around you right now, anyone you care about at all, reach over, give them a hug and tell them that you love them. We all lose folk and we all face trails and tribulations, but taking less for granted will certainly make the inevitable bumps a tad easier to ride.

Although I signed up yonks ago, I think it's fair to say that, posting-wise, I'm clearly a newbie here, and obviously don't know you guys very well (although I have met a couple a few years back, if usernames are anything to go by?), so I don't feel man hugs and the like are appropriate.  I am, however, happy to offer my sympathy, and send you my best wishes.

The main purpose of my post though, is to let you know... through my own recent experience (on another, non-football forum)... that when poo like this happens, even if it "feels wrong", "against your better judgement", or indeed "something that really isn't in your nature", it really does help to open up... even on a public forum... to folk who you may consider to be your "mates".  Even if, in reality, they are total strangers.  In fact, I think that's what helped me in my own "hour of need"... the fact that my forum mates were actually strangers, as opposed to real friends and family! 

"It's good to talk", as the saying goes, and I now know that's very true, so keep "talking"... when you feel the need.  It really does help (as do the kind and considerate responses, of course!)

All the very best to you and your old man.  I hope it all works out for you... but in the meantime, "you know where we are, if you need us"!  

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1 minute ago, 86 points said:

Thanks @Mucker1884 I did initially regret posting but in hindsight all the support has been very welcome and I have been touched by the kindness shown by the DCFC Fans clan, yourself included. Many thanks again.

Yes, you do wonder (panic!) if you've done the right thing, seconds after pressing the "send" button!  But as you're now finding out for yourself, those messages of support and kind words go a hell of a long way to easing the pain.  You did the right thing!  

All the best.

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Tough times can focus us and bring out our best.

And I would take a gentleman's wager that your best is very good.

My only suggestion (i wouldn't presume to advise) is to treat each day as a gift, to view everyone you know as a precious but fragile thing. Cherish it as far as you can. And save the inevitable rucks and in-fights for future fire side reminiscences. 

Best wishes and much respect,

Hants x

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3 hours ago, 86 points said:

Thanks @Parsnip It's a terrible disease but research is slowly starting to win more battles, if not the war itself. Cancer took my mum very early in her life, one of the reasons I think I completely freaked at the recent new,s but that was a long time ago now and I think in many cases the prognosis is far more positive. I'm holding onto that thought right now and given the old boy played 18 holes yesterday, it's clear he's not curling up just yet in any case!  

Just to say, my wife's brother was diagnosed with prostate cancer, and by the luck of the draw got really good treatment to the point where he was declared free of it. It involved injecting him with gold particles and female hormones or summat. Anyway, that was 3 or 4 years ago and now he's really fit and active, and 80! So there's hope. Good luck.

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Wish you all the best mate. Unfortunately I didnt get the good luck story with my dad's prostate cancer as I lost him to it a couple years ago.

There's some amazing treatments out there though and I personally found despite the end result the positivity throughout was easily the best way to deal with it.  

Thanks for sharing we are all in support of you mate. 

Edited by Simsy

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On 21/11/2018 at 10:37, 86 points said:

He seems OK thanks John. He's tough and made of sterner stuff than me. He'll know what's what end of week apparently but he's just carrying on as if nothing's happened at the moment which I guess is the right approach, for now at least. 

How’s your Dad mate?

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Only just opened this topic. Really sorry to hear your bad news. I imagine you now have things a bit clearer, and hopefully the news is better than when you first posted. My dad was diagnosed with non-Hodgekins lymphoma around 3 or 4 years ago (strange how quickly time passes and you sometimes find it difficult to put an actual date on things), but after treatment he is now in remission (sadly it can never be "cured") and when I saw him a couple of months back I was surprised by how good he looked. He's not as active as he was, but at nearly 83 I don't suppose he's going to be. Although we were always close we weren't exactly a tell each other how much we love each other family, but having lived in Spain for 21 years and with a particularly close family over here, I do get much more demonstrative with family and friends (much to some of their embarrassment) when I'm over. As others have said, make the most of your time together, that goes for everyone with their loved ones, and keep on keeping on.

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Honestly mate, the message I’d offer you is that the adage, “What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger” is 100% true.

I can relate to what you are going through. It’s been the worst few years of my life, these last three, for many and varied reasons which there’s no need to go into now (I’ve written about the circumstances in other threads in here previously).

Suffice to say, it’s fair to say that, when I didn’t think things could get much worse, they did.

But the last six months or so have been beyond anything I could ever have imagined. My best mate since we were 8yo died on July 14, two weeks shy of turning 52; six days after another good mate died suddenly at the age of 50.

I hadn’t been able to catch up with my best mate for the last couple of years as (a) I’ve had to focus on medical, legal and mental issues of my own; and (b) his struggle with alcoholism was too much of a burden for me to take on as well.

I tried to ring him on the Thursday before the Saturday he passed away as I had pretty much decided that my struggle with my issues has reached the point where they were hopeless and wanted to ‘circle back’ to try and help him get back on his feet. Unfortunately I’ll never know if he heard or understood that message before he died in a fall.

After the shock and the funeral - my mate’s family could see that I was punch drunk (despite my attempts to hide it) and did what they’d done since Terry and I were kids and wrapped me in to their family. They encouraged me in an idea to gift Terry’s 11yo son a St Kilda Australian Football Club guernsey, inscribed with messages for Terry by his friends. I just wanted to ensure that Lachlan knew how loved his dad was, especially given his alcoholism had resulted in his wife ending their marriage and trying to deprive Terry of access to his son.

At the wake, Terry’s older sisters insisted that I present it to Lachlan. While I had been prepared to give a eulogy and write part of the service, I really wasn’t ready to do that. If nothing else, I hadn’t seen Lachlan in person since he was 3 or 4.

I told his sisters later that I should have known (after all these years) to just accept their wisdom when my emotions were as wrought as they were. Not only is he a terrific young boy, the effect on Lachlan could not have been more cathartic for me tbh. Terry’s family and I took him to watch my AFL team play Terry’s a couple of weeks later and we’ve agreed that we’ll continue to do that as long as he wants us to (next it’s March 30, Round 2 of the 2019 season).

Even playing that small role with Terry’s family and son helps me tremendously with the feeling that, while I may have let him down, I’m doing what he’d have wanted in ensuring his son is ok. That’s important to me, and to Terry’s family. They want Terry’s son to ‘get’ more of his dad before alcoholism consumed him.

 Apologies for the long-winded sob story but I’m trying to give you a sense of how you’ll find strength and positives even as you confront the worst things. In early October, I learned that another mate, a young bloke who worked for me when he was 18 and who became the younger brother I always wanted (as opposed to the younger brother I have...just kidding...in a way) was diagnosed with an aggressive cancer. He’s only 37 and has 3yo and 1yo daughters (it was at his 1yo’s first birthday party that I learned just how serious Ben’s condition is).

When I think of loved ones facing potentially life threatening illnesses, I always think of a radio interview I heard by chance years ago with a folk musician who wrote a song based around his grandmother’s final words to his grandfather before she died; “thank you for loving me”.

 I’ve never been able to find the correct title or the musician’s name but the way he talked of his grandmother’s passing struck me as profoundly beautiful. Again, it’s amazing how we draw strength and succour from the worst and most challenging experiences.

Open yourself to your feelings as these tough times happen. Share them and accept the love that will come your way as people who love you try to show you that.

Good luck to you. I hope all works out for you and your family. But, remember, what doesn’t kill you really does make you stronger.

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11 minutes ago, EssendonRam said:

Honestly mate, the message I’d offer you is that the adage, “What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger” is 100% true.

I can relate to what you are going through. It’s been the worst few years of my life, these last three, for many and varied reasons which there’s no need to go into now (I’ve written about the circumstances in other threads in here previously).

Suffice to say, it’s fair to say that, when I didn’t think things could get much worse, they did.

But the last six months or so have been beyond anything I could ever have imagined. My best mate since we were 8yo died on July 14, two weeks shy of turning 52; six days after another good mate died suddenly at the age of 50.

I hadn’t been able to catch up with my best mate for the last couple of years as (a) I’ve had to focus on medical, legal and mental issues of my own; and (b) his struggle with alcoholism was too much of a burden for me to take on as well.

I tried to ring him on the Thursday before the Saturday he passed away as I had pretty much decided that my struggle with my issues has reached the point where they were hopeless and wanted to ‘circle back’ to try and help him get back on his feet. Unfortunately I’ll never know if he heard or understood that message before he died in a fall.

After the shock and the funeral - my mate’s family could see that I was punch drunk (despite my attempts to hide it) and did what they’d done since Terry and I were kids and wrapped me in to their family. They encouraged me in an idea to gift Terry’s 11yo son a St Kilda Australian Football Club guernsey, inscribed with messages for Terry by his friends. I just wanted to ensure that Lachlan knew how loved his dad was, especially given his alcoholism had resulted in his wife ending their marriage and trying to deprive Terry of access to his son.

At the wake, Terry’s older sisters insisted that I present it to Lachlan. While I had been prepared to give a eulogy and write part of the service, I really wasn’t ready to do that. If nothing else, I hadn’t seen Lachlan in person since he was 3 or 4.

I told his sisters later that I should have known (after all these years) to just accept their wisdom when my emotions were as wrought as they were. Not only is he a terrific young boy, the effect on Lachlan could not have been more cathartic for me tbh. Terry’s family and I took him to watch my AFL team play Terry’s a couple of weeks later and we’ve agreed that we’ll continue to do that as long as he wants us to (next it’s March 30, Round 2 of the 2019 season).

Even playing that small role with Terry’s family and son helps me tremendously with the feeling that, while I may have let him down, I’m doing what he’d have wanted in ensuring his son is ok. That’s important to me, and to Terry’s family. They want Terry’s son to ‘get’ more of his dad before alcoholism consumed him.

 Apologies for the long-winded sob story but I’m trying to give you a sense of how you’ll find strength and positives even as you confront the worst things. In early October, I learned that another mate, a young bloke who worked for me when he was 18 and who became the younger brother I always wanted (as opposed to the younger brother I have...just kidding...in a way) was diagnosed with an aggressive cancer. He’s only 37 and has 3yo and 1yo daughters (it was at his 1yo’s first birthday party that I learned just how serious Ben’s condition is).

When I think of loved ones facing potentially life threatening illnesses, I always think of a radio interview I heard by chance years ago with a folk musician who wrote a song based around his grandmother’s final words to his grandfather before she died; “thank you for loving me”.

 I’ve never been able to find the correct title or the musician’s name but the way he talked of his grandmother’s passing struck me as profoundly beautiful. Again, it’s amazing how we draw strength and succour from the worst and most challenging experiences.

Open yourself to your feelings as these tough times happen. Share them and accept the love that will come your way as people who love you try to show you that.

Good luck to you. I hope all works out for you and your family. But, remember, what doesn’t kill you really does make you stronger.

Thank you so much for your post @EssendonRam It really did strike a chord. Dad got his results today and unfortunately they confirmed the worst. That said, another scan is required to determine the level of spread which is scheduled for this weekend, after which a course of treatment will be decided upon. I can't say I'm on top of things at the moment, far from it if truth be told, but messages such as your own have been immensely comforting nonetheless. 

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