I have no clue why I’m up at this hour!

Probably because I have been going, going, going nonstop since last Sunday. Not a moment to myself!

Nothing is scheduled for me tomorrow or Sunday, so I’m just going to hibernate. I’ll probably be off here and my personal email for a couple of days.

I wonder if I’m even capable of putting my phone away!

Anyway, if I don’t respond, I don’t mean to be rude—I probably just need some sleep! :)

I think it's a splendid idea to take some you time K - enjoy it! :)

D

bet your still awake

Yes!

I can’t just ignore when I see people post!

I’m hopeless! LOL!

Very soon, though!

You bring us all hope.
You never complain or personalize stuff.
You got a lot of class and I aspire to be like that one day.

Enjoy a few days off K.
Love from france.
V.

Gilmer,

Words cannot express.

Your kindness and thoughtfulness shine through in every post.

So many of us have leaned on you. I hope that now you will give us the honor of leaning on us.

I am thinking of you.

Yeah, if you're already in Boca you might as well see The Keys. :D Rent a convertible.

I remember being under sail on a 40' trimaran coming back from the reef on a choppy bouncy sea. The first mate walked up to me as I stood with one hand on a rail, enjoying the ride, while people were heaving their lungs out over the side. He said,"you've sailed before! Want a job?" I should have said yes.

Enjoy your rest Gilmer xx

I hope you get some rest Gilmer! :)

:grouphug:

Kathy, :grouphug:

Gilmer

Your strength and faith inspire me! <3

I know you are away but this news you shared with us hit me hard. for so many reasons . i can't talk i just want to tell you your signature always mean so much to me.


When you're weary, feeling small
When tears are in your eyes, I'll dry them all (all)
I'm on your side, oh, when times get rough
And friends just can't be found
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down
When you're down and out
When you're on the street
When evening falls so hard
I will comfort you (ooo)
I'll take your part, oh, when darkness comes
And pain is all around
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down
Sail on silver girl
Sail on by
Your time has come to shine
All your dreams are on their way
See how they shine
Oh, if you need a friend
I'm sailing right behind
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind


i wish all goes smooth and painless and beautiful for you. you are a beautiful person and you had help me a lot.And you are not alone we are this bridge and God is the biggest bridge of all, love Claudia

I had to do some thread-reading research to catch up with your news Glimer. I'm so sad. What I'm learning lately on this leg of my sobriety journey, is that life is all too short. I've known so very many people in my life who have received a diagnosis or received some other life changing information. The message that I'm taking away is that I need to live my life to the fullest now...not to wait until things line up perfectly. Thank you for sharing your journey and thank you for being a part of SR. You have made my life and those of others so much brighter.

hello Gilmer, I hope you had a good rest.

love ya

badge

hopefully you got some rest Gilly

Have a beautiful Sunday Kathy. Good morning

Badge

Thank you all very much. I did apparently need the rest, because yesterday turned out to be an emotional seesaw day.

Thank you for posting, SoberClover. It is nice to see you.

And HAS—Claudia—thank you. I am deeply humbled. Seeing the song lyrics in print like that brought tears to my eyes.

I’m very glad to have you along with me on this journey.

Also, I am very sorry about the anniversary of your sister’s passing.

Thank you for the lovely post, Dropsie: I am absolutely going to lean on you guys right now!

Honestly, till this time there’s been nothing much to share.

When I first found out on May 30 that my liver scan had two tumors that the radiologist said were “highly suspicious for melanoma,”. I assumed it to be true, because ever since the original eye cancer in 2010 I’ve known that it might come back someday.

So my response was to read as much about “ocular melanoma metastasis” online as I could.

I’m not that bad (anymore :)) about googling “headache,” then instantly jumping to the conclusion that it’s brain cancer; besides, the thing I was googling was a pretty pinpointed diagnosis.

And there weren’t that many layperson sites to wade through—most of what I found was teaching hospital websites and peer-reviewed medical journal articles.

So unless the lab had switched my scan with someone else’s (impossible, I was told)—or unless it happed to be a very rare benign tumor that usually occurred in young women, it no doubt really was metastatic ocular melanoma.

So I got the biopsy, and sure enough.

My mindset immediately upon realizing the writing on the wall was to furrow my brow and turn into Rainman, scouring everything online, as I said. I was like a dog on a bone.

One morning before anyone else was awake, the implications just hit me like a brick. I sobbed and sobbed before God and, totally humble and defenseless, asked that if my own wishes had any bearing on his decision, to please bring me home with him, because I am honestly so weary of trying to drive what CS Lewis called a “wretched machine.”

I told him, “Thy will, not mine” be done—but “you know the desire of my inmost heart.”

I had a couple days of being super-irritable with those whom I dared to tell who were appalled that anybody would want to give up on life, or throw myself right into the grave without knowing all of the facts.

Maybe I am wacko.

But after talking it out with those loved ones—and understanding that I truly wasn’t certain that death was what I faced—I just stopped trying to control everything: my insistence on the ultimate knowledge, the reactions of other people, and my own feelings.

And soon—I don’t actually know exactly when—I got a sense of peace that everything was going to be OK.

And I have really and truly been lighthearted ever since.

Even after the official diagnosis last Tuesday, I wasn’t discouraged or deflated.

But now I’m afraid that some of my attitude might have been a bit of a pink cloud.

Yesterday my mood swung a bit back to anger with a real life acquaintance. I ‘ll explain below.

I took a day off SR not so much because I was feeling bad at first, but I saw my schedule starting to get very full, and I began to panic at the prospect of getting overwhelmed and run down.

Now that my friends and acquaintances IRL know about my diagnosis, they all want to get together with me.

This pleases me; I earnestly want to get together with them, too.

So July has gotten pretty booked up already, plus two weeks in August are blocked off for the Bucket List getaways.

Though I don’t plan to schedule anything more—and I have announced to my family not to schedule anything during the week of August 12-19, because I hope to be totally encumbered from having to entertain people—something happened yesterday that caused my normal mood to snap instantly and get angry.

I was thinking yesterday about the five stages of grief and how I can go from one to the other in the matter of moments. Acceptance waxes and wanes, like an ocean wave.

Many hugs.

I too am about finished with the struggles of this life.

And then, I want to stay. Back/forth it goes.

Another hug.

Yeah. I would never want to end my life by my own hand.

It really is a wonderful life that I’ve been given. I am grateful to God from the bottom of my heart.

Any problem in it is with me.

I do look greatly forward to being united with Christ.

I believe with all my heart that he is paradise.

Not that I would ever take the life he has graciously given me and hasten its end—life is a gift—but if these are the cards that I have indeed been dealt, then I am not going to resist him kicking and screaming.