|From: fjm |
2014-03-30 03:44 pm (UTC)
I am so terribly sorry. Our local minister and his wife lost their middle daughter to cancer two years ago. Our last memory of her is as a bridesmaid at her elder sister's wedding. There is no real comfort to offer, but I send my very best.
Reading, witnessing, and you are all in my head and heart. There are no words in this language to say "I grieve with you" properly.
My prayers, weak as they are, for all those in Rebecca's life. I'm so sorry.
i am so very sorry. not only for the news, but for everyone who loves that sweet little girl.
I am so sorry. The whole family is in my prayers.
That's awful, I'm so sorry to You guys, Becca and the Meyers have to go through this. I was really hoping it would somehow all work out. If there is anything we can do to brighten her day, if she'd like to get art or postcards or something in the mail, please let us know.
I'm so sorry. It's such an awful thing - I crumpled and hyperventilated and wanted to throw up when my mom said all the doctor had for them was "I think it would be good if your children were here", and I can't even imagine being in that place with regard to a little kid.
Thinking of you all.
I am so, so sorry. There are no words. There are days that I am reminded how lucky I am to have my little family all here and well. I am grateful for that. The world is cruel that this is the way we are reminded of such things. I am sending prayers, which is, unfortunately, all I have to give.
I'm so sorry, Gini. This is heart-breaking. My thoughts are with you and them.
I know that they have been following the Act. I will ask them about your invitation. Thank you.
I'm so very sorry. This is just devastating and you and Rebecca and her family have my best wishes.
2014-03-31 02:29 am (UTC)
I think one of the most beautiful things about humanity is our capacity for hope. Until the last possible second, we will continue to pray and strive and dream, even knowing the odds are stacked against us. My brother was dying of hepatitis until he got into a double-blind study for a new drug, lucked out and got the real medicine, and it actually cured him. We were making plans to take care of his kids, and I was at the place you are now, suspended in that long, long fall, waiting to hit the ground. I wish with all my heart for that miracle for Becca.
Praying for the same kind of success story here.
I know the feeling you describe very well. When my sister died all I could do was wander around saying, "It wasn't supposed to happen this way. Her transplant was supposed to save her."
I am so very very sorry. For you and for Ferrett and for Rebecca & her family and for everybody.
I feel for your loss so deeply.
My best friend was diagnosed with Stage IV colon cancer which had metastasized to her liver. Her odds of surviving for five years were about 8%. We all figured SOMEBODY had to be among those 8% of survivors, why not Cheryl? Sure enough, she lived another almost 8 years, most of them as if she didn't have that dreadful thing inside her. She had amazing doctors and a huge support system, not unlike Rebecca. It seemed as if every time one of the chemo drugs started to fail, a new one had been approved. Never lose hope. One of the clinical trials could be the answer. Every week, every day was a blessing.
Thanks. I'm trying to cling to those success stories.
I am so, so sorry. I hoped for the best, and I still hope for a miracle, but I know how unlikely it is. You and Rebecca and Ferrett and your family are in my thoughts.