#what happens when diagnosed with pancreatic cancer

[ceyhanmedya]

What is pancreatic cancer? What are the symptoms and treatment methods? 2023

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What is pancreatic cancer? What are the symptoms and treatment methods? 2023

The pancreas is an organ that has very important functions in the body, located at the back of the abdomen and adjacent to the stomach, duodenum and large intestine, which is about 15 cm long. The pancreas ensures the digestion of the consumed foods and keeping the glucose obtained from these foods at the required levels in the blood. Apart from this, the smallest damage to the pancreas, which has many vital functions, can lead to consequences that affect the whole body.

What is pancreatic cancer?

Malignant masses that tend to proliferate in any part of the pancreas are called pancreatic cancer. Although cancers formed in this organ can develop in all parts of the organ, they most commonly spread in the head region. The most common type of pancreatic cancer is adenocarcinoma. Since adenocarcinoma originates from aggressive cells, it can progress rapidly and metastasize to surrounding tissues.

What are the symptoms of pancreatic cancer?

Pancreatic cancer can progress insidiously without any symptoms in its initial stages. However, the most common pancreatic cancer symptoms that started to appear in the later stages are; symptoms such as weight loss, abdominal pain, jaundice, loss of appetite, nausea-vomiting, weakness, fatigue, diarrhea, indigestion, back pain, glass paste-colored stools, pallor, sudden onset diabetes and depression without a family history. Rapid weight loss is seen in patients as a result of malnutrition along with bloating, indigestion and loss of appetite. One of the earliest and most common symptoms is jaundice. Initially, jaundice appears in the eyes, then yellowing of the skin, darkening of the urine color and turning into ‘tea-colored urine’, and finally results in an abnormal lightening of the stool color, defined as ‘glass paste’. The cause of jaundice is the inhibition of the excretion of bilirubin produced by the liver to the duodenum as a result of obstruction of the biliary tract by pancreatic cancer. While the pain is a mild discomfort, which is defined as vague abdominal pain, it takes the form of abdominal pain in the back in the future. It is blunt in nature. It is often associated with symptoms of bloating and indigestion. in the future, it takes the form of abdominal pain that hits the back. It is blunt in nature. It is often associated with symptoms of bloating and indigestion. in the future, it takes the form of abdominal pain that hits the back. It is blunt in nature. It is often associated with symptoms of bloating and indigestion.

What are the causes of pancreatic cancer?

Although the cause of the disease is unknown, it is more common in smokers and obese individuals. In almost 30% of patients, the cause of pancreatic cancer is smoking. Pancreatic cancer associated with adult diabetes is controversial. Having a family history of cancer is also among the causes of pancreatic cancer. The disease is more common in men than women, and the risk of developing this disease increases with age. The average age at catching pancreatic cancer worldwide is 63 for men and 67 for women.

How is pancreatic cancer diagnosed?

Diagnosis can be difficult, especially in the early stages, as the disease presents with insidious symptoms. In patients who apply to the health institution in the early period, it is of great importance that the patient is well examined by the physician and that the necessary diagnostic tests are applied in order to diagnose the disease.

Ultrasonography:  Ultrasonography is the first examination method to be applied in the suspicion of pancreatic cancer. The presence of a hard or cystic mass in the pancreas gives information about the size of the mass, its relationship with other surrounding structures, and its proximity to vascular structures.

Laboratory tests:  Serum bilirubin, alkaline phosphatase, liver transaminases and values ​​such as CEA, CA19-9 and CA-125 were increased. Bilirubin in the urine is positive.

Computed tomography (CT) and magnetic resonance imaging (MR):  CT gives very important information about pancreatic tumors when taken orally and intravenously with contrast medication. It has a diagnostic feature of approximately 95% or more. MR imaging is also important in the differential diagnosis of the tumor. These two examinations can be used together when necessary, ensuring the correct results for the surgery decision to be given to the patient and the correct staging of the tumor.

Individuals diagnosed with the disease as a result of the tests should be evaluated in detail in terms of pancreatic cancer stages, and the treatment process should be started immediately after the stage of the disease is determined.

How is pancreatic cancer treated?

At the beginning of the process for pancreatic cancer treatment, at the end of physical examination, laboratory and radiological examinations, the stage of the pancreatic tumor, its relationship with neighboring organs, especially whether it has spread to adjacent vessels and/or distant organs, and the chance of surgical removal are evaluated. Surgery cannot be performed in advanced stage tumors. Along with the chemotherapy to be applied to these patients, some interventions can be applied to improve the comfort of life by correcting the existing jaundice, providing nutritional support and reducing pain. For this purpose, placing a tube (stent) that provides passage to the bile duct with endoscopy from the mouth through the stomach, draining the bile out with the help of a needle placed from the abdominal skin to the intrahepatic biliary tract with the help of a needle, advanced pain relief techniques,

Surgical Treatment: If  the tumor is suitable for surgical removal, ‘Whipple surgery’ is performed. In addition, if the tumor is located in the body and tail of the pancreas, relatively easier resection methods can be applied. Surgical removal of the tumor is the only cure for these patients. In pancreatic head tumors, surgery is more complicated since it is not possible to surgically remove only the head of the pancreas. In Whipple surgery; Together with the head of the pancreas, the gallbladder, part of the main bile duct, duodenum, part of the stomach and surrounding lymph nodes are removed as a block. 

Radiation Therapy:  Radiation therapy, also called radiotherapy, involves using high-energy rays to kill cancer cells. Radiation therapy only affects cells in the area being treated. Radiotherapy is applied alone or in combination with chemotherapy, especially if the location and size of the tumor complicates the surgery or in cases where surgery cannot be performed. Radiotherapy can be combined with chemotherapy to shrink the tumor before surgery. In some cases, radiotherapy may be given to prevent recurrences after surgery.

Chemotherapy:  It is the use of anticancer drugs to kill cancer cells. In pancreatic cancers, drug treatment called chemotherapy can be applied, taking into account the general conditions of the patients before or after surgery. Chemotherapy may be used in conjunction with radiotherapy to shrink the tumor prior to surgery or as a primary treatment in place of surgery. Surgery and radiotherapy have no place in extensive advanced disease. By administering chemotherapy to this group of patients, their quality of life can be significantly improved.

after treatment

Survival:  The chance of full recovery after surgery with early diagnosis is less than 50%. Anticancer drugs and radiation therapy increase the rate of recovery. However, survival rates are not good after surgeries that leave cancer cells behind or in cases where there is spread to neighboring organs.

Prevention:  In order to prevent pancreatic cancer, it is necessary to stay away from tobacco, eat a balanced diet, do regular exercise and get rid of excess weight. NOTE:  The text here is a general information and may vary depending on the patient and the condition of the disease, so consult with a Medical Oncology specialist for personal evaluation.

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[glennk56]

William Hootkins in the 2000s

In 2001 William Hootkins worked with Director Peter Chelsom for the third time in the comedy Town & Country starring Warren Beatty and Diane Keaton.

He also appeared in vampire movie The Breed in 2001.

In January 2002, he appeared in TV Movie The Magnificent Ambersons.

These photos are from the Screening of The Magnificent Ambersons. Notice the difference in height between William Hootkins and James Cromwell. Hootkins was a foot shorter. 5'7" vs 6'7".

In 2004 Hootkins was in Blessed, a supernatural Horror Thriller starring Heather Graham. Filmed in Romania, November 2003.

William Hootkins was in an episode of The West Wing as a translator. Hootkins learned Mandarin at Princeton University and that is what most likely got him this job but he was never shown speaking Mandarin or even got a close-up. This episode was shown in December 2004, one month before he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. I don't know when it was filmed but he must've been dealing with symptoms (pain, jaundice, worsening diabetes) at the time.

William Hootkins made 3 appearances on film in 2005. He was diagnosed with Pancreatic Cancer in January and passed away in October. There was the comedy film Dear Wendy that was shown at the Sundance Film Festival in January 2005 but it was filmed in late 2003. There was an episode of Absolute Power starring Stephen Fry that aired in August 2005. I don't have photos of these two. The last credit is from Colour Me Kubrick (photos above) which was shown in France at the Dinard Festival of British Cinema in October 2005, however this was filmed in early 2004. So his last appearance on film was either on the TV shows The West Wing or Absolute Power.

In 2003, William Hootkins played Alfred Hitchcock in Hitchcock Blonde in the London Theatre to great acclaim. Hootkins worked hard for this role learning Hitchcock's mannerisms and accent. There were plans to bring the production to Broadway in 2005 where he would've been eligible to win a Tony Award. This never happened once he was diagnosed with Cancer.

[marvelousbuckley]

TW disease and death

A week ago I learned that my dad has pancreatic cancer. It's one of the worst cancers ever because it's always diagnosed too late. By some miracle, his cancer was diagnosed while still in stage 1.

His tumor is only 2cm, and today we learned that he is eligible for the surgery. He'll have a second opinion in a few days but he might have surgery soon. It's absolutely incredible, unbelievable that he's been this lucky.

But I know it's not a win yet, because it's a stupid disease and now I'll be forever afraid that it might come back. Plus surgery is heavy, and I don't even know what will happen after it. I'm terrified.

You see, I'm not such a lucky person. My life is full of death, like it's everywhere around me. Just this year I lost two members of my family, one of them was my grandpa. I've been traumatized by all of this and I know for a fact that it won't go any better now.

So, I'll keep writing. But I might write more fluff, crack, silly stories, smut even. I might put my angsty buddietommy fic on hiatus, I might stop answering sometimes, disappear for a day or two. But I know this fandom, I know you all are gonna help me because you make me happy. 911 will be my fresh air for when I can't breathe and I am so glad I started it, I am so grateful for the people I met thanks to it. I am so grateful for you all ❤️

Take care of the people you love 💞

[compassionatereminders]

Hi Kat. I need to share this and I don’t know if I need compassion or advice, but I wanted to share with someone who will truly listen.

Tw: death

My mom and I have had a turbulent relationship my entire life. I was always the black sheep, ignored, made to survive on my own. But when she did zero in on me, it was to tell me rewritten stories, yell at me, or pass on negative things about myself, which I believed growing up.

I cut her out of my life about 9 years ago, and in doing so, lost the connections with 3 siblings. It was hard and I hurt, but I did what I had to do to repair myself.

She was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer 3 months ago. It was stage 4. We arranged a visit as she lives across the us from me. Me, my mom, my 4 siblings and I spent a day together and it was really good. I wanted to go back again. Only, I couldn’t get any contact with anyone. They cut me off. I got random, vague updates. My mom was declining and my sister said she would call me so I could talk to my mother one last time. I wrote a whole page of things I wanted to say. I never got to have that phone call because my siblings decided I shouldn’t.

My sister reached out to my sister in law on Saturday night to say my mom had passed Friday. One of my aunts was there, and she refused to give me updates. None of them called me after. My sister in law had to break the news to me.

Now, they’ve decided I can’t be at the funeral. They moved my mom across a couple states to bury her where she wished. I don’t know where that is, and they wouldn’t tell me. Now, it’s going to happen tomorrow. And they still won’t tell me where, but it’s too late anyway to make it halfway across the country.

I’m so hurt and feel betrayed. I’m angry. I wanted to go to find some peace and say goodbye to my mom. I wanted to hug one of my brothers. It was important to me, and it was taken from me. At this point I don’t know how to mourn because I’m too angry at the situation.

Do I deserve this? For cutting my toxic mother off? My brother had Down’s syndrome and he was a casualty. I wasn’t allowed to contact him. Now, I still won’t be because he’ll be living with my sister who is the mastermind of all of this and a carbon copy of my mom. I don’t even have an address to send him cards, and he doesn’t have a phone. I feel like I’m losing so much.

I’m sorry this got so long. I am not good at talking out loud about this stuff so getting it out is helpful.

I honestly don’t know how to mourn.

This is a really terrible situation, and my heart goes out to you. And I don't think you "deserve" this. I think it's mean to refuse you the chance to say goodbye and mourn. One could argue that just like you had the right to cut your mom out of your life, the rest of your family has a similar right according their relationship with you. Not because you are a bad person who deserves to suffer for having boundaries, but because every person has (or should have) the right to decide who they want in their life, family members included. Sometimes such decisions will hurt and be unfair, but just like you could decide not to see your mother, your siblings can decide not to see you. That being said, I still think cutting you completely out of your moms illness and death is taking it to an unnecessarily mean extreme. And I'm really sorry you're going through all of this on top of losing a parent.

[infinitelytheheartexpands]

on the cusp between childhood and adulthood, the sudden onset of grief when you weren’t in the room where it happened, and the impossible art of growing up in a very short time: or, why the princess of france from love’s labour’s lost means a lot to me personally

on the heels of reading as the princess of france with @socialshakespeare

heads up, the rest of this is going to get Very Long Very Quickly, so i’m putting it under a cut. tw for discussions of cancer, parental death, and grief.

so when @socialshakespeare announced that it would be doing love’s labour’s lost this month, in the box where you can put any additional notes about your casting preferences, i pretty much begged the admins to let me have a turn as the princess of france. y’know, i said, as a sort of twenty-first birthday present. and i was cast as the princess of france! thank you, socshakes! <3

but there was a very specific reason why i asked to play the princess of france.

and that reason is simply: she reminds me of me. more particularly, she reminds me of me from 2020, but me from 2020 was really the germination point of me today.

“savannah, everyone changed in 2020, 2020 was a fucking unbelievable year and it changed us all. it changed our whole world.” yeah. i’m well aware. but there’s a specific reason for me.

***

see, in early 2020, i was having a pretty decent time, actually. it was my senior year of high school, i had a great group of friends (much like the princess had her three ladies except my core friend group was bigger than that), things with my family weren’t great but i knew that come august i would be able to move out.

that first period of covid was awful and it changed so much and at times it felt like i was having a mental breakdown, but it wasn’t what ultimately ripped me apart that year.

you see, in 2018, about a month before my fifteenth birthday, my father was diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer. for a good long while, though, it seemed like he might beat the odds. treatments were working, he went to one of the best hospitals in the country to get good care, and we believed that he just might make it.

and then in the summer of 2020, things rapidly took a turn for the worse.

on july 20, 2020, we all got sat down and told that the treatments weren’t working anymore, and they had elected to put my father on hospice care. i sobbed all that night and into the next morning, but i had a cashier job that summer at walmart. i was an essential worker and i had to power through.

in love’s labour’s lost, everyone knows even before the princess arrives that her father is extremely sick. for heaven’s sake, it’s why the princess is there in the first place instead of the king. and yet the princess powers through. there’s deals to be made, familial honor to be defended, and there’s also that tiny matter of falling in love and playing with the joy and laughter that come with it. and the princess embraces it.

she is young, she is optimistic, she is a bit sheltered maybe yet so smart, she has devoted friends, she has seemingly all the time in the world because no one knows when the time runs out so might as well believe it never will, right?

my high school graduation came five days later, on july 25. a rare opportunity to see friends then and, at long last, after a two-month delay and twelve years of study before that, a chance to celebrate. relatives came in. we had cake and flowers. we took photos on the soccer field in 90-degree weather but it didn’t matter because we were together and we were so full of joy on that blue-sky day.

and after that, only nineteen days until leaving. i had been counting the days for months, excited for new possibilities, not understanding the impact. it would be easy, i thought. all that needed done were to pack my bags and suitcases and buy some last-minute things, say my goodbyes for now to my favorite people, enjoy every moment i could, and wait in a haze of delightful agony and optimism until the morning of august 13 came.

this went as planned for about three days.

july 29, 2020, started like any other day. i got my things together, had an argument with my stepmom about doing the dishes (you said i can’t do the dishes when it’s late and everyone’s asleep after i get off work, when do you expect me to do them), decided to start the dishwasher right before i left for work (if she was mad about it, then she could unload the dishwasher as needed and we could have this conversation when i got home, i reasoned) and went to walmart for my shift that day. i cut one of my fingers on a taco seasoning packet, watched some of the salzburg 2007 production of berlioz’s benvenuto cellini on my lunch break, and in general otherwise it was a pretty normal shift. and like all normal shifts, i took my sweet time getting out and getting home.

at about 5:15 i was dawdling and trying to find an excuse to not get in my car just yet when i got a call from my stepmom that basically went like this:

me: hi

stepmom: hey. are you coming home yet?

me: i will be there in a little bit.

stepmom: it’s been raining so you need to be careful getting home.

me: it hasn’t rained that much and i know how to drive in the rain.

stepmom: just be careful getting home. bye.

so i sighed and went “well i can’t put this off any longer”, and got in my car and put some more berlioz on and drove home, thinking about how she sounded upset over the phone and oh i was going to get a tongue-lashing for leaving the dishes in the dishwasher all day.

and just as i was pulling up, i noticed my older brother’s truck outside. huh, i thought, that’s weird. why is he here?

i pulled into the driveway and saw my stepmom sitting on the step outside the side door by herself. two thoughts about what this meant went into my head at about the same time:

option 1: uh oh my stepmom is big mad and she waited out here just so she could tell me off right when i got home

option 2: uh oh my brother and my stepmom got into a fight again for whatever reason and she just can’t deal with it right now

(both of these, for the record, were entirely plausible things that could have happened)

so i parked and got out and decided to not commit to either of these but just play this very strange situation as coolly as possible. i believe my exact words were “hey, what are you doing out here by your lonesome?”

and like monsieur marcade, she could only get out a handful of words, and it was left to me to fill in the meaning.

the meaning: savannah, your father is dead.

and, to quote a different shakespeare play, “i must be from thence.”

my father died and i wasn’t there.

***

this is the same fate to befall the princess of france: her political mission mixed with girls’ trip has taken her to navarre, to a world full of annoying yet beloved men and delightful games and amateur theatre filled with passion. and then she learns that her father all the way in paris has died, and she wasn’t there.

now we don’t know what the princess’ relationship with her father was like; this is not something that is discussed at all in the play. but i know what my relationship with my father was like. we didn’t always understand each other or agree on everything, but i loved him. and in a childhood where the concept of family was a loose one due to an over decade-long stretch of family drama, he was the one constant.

and then four days after my high school graduation, he was simply gone, never to return.

now some folks will probably go back to those days of late july and early august 2020 and see that i posted exactly nothing about all this. why? i just needed a space where i could forget, where i could live in denial for a little longer, where i could cling to something in my life that wasn’t about this unimaginable loss until i couldn’t anymore.

living in the late 1500s, with a whole country to newly run, no social media, and a permanent existence in the public eye, the princess does not have this sort of escape. she knows right away the awful truth. it is inevitable; she must leave this happy sojourn, this newfound love.

her first line after she realizes her father is dead shows that plainly: “boyet, prepare. i will away tonight.” and even as she plans to shut herself up in a mourning-house, it is at the same time that she will be learning first hand how to run her kingdom.

sixteen days after my father’s death, i left home to learn how to live on my own. and even before that, i got only five days of bereavement leave from work, and i went back to work the day after my father’s funeral. let alone the rest of the frantic preparations for leaving home and starting a brand new life alone—in the middle of a pandemic and now, with this grief weighing on me.

life and the world do not wait for grief.

and sixteen days is too fast to grow up.

you can’t just flip the switch from child to adult, especially when you’re grieving.

and when the world forces you to do so, it is truly awful.

there’s no closure to it. as another character mourns in the closing moments of the play, “our wooing doth not end like an old play.” well, neither did the princess’ relationship with her father.

to continue with the shakespeare allusions, as much as i love and am heartbroken by the deathbed reconciliation between king henry iv and prince hal in henry iv, part 2 (a scene i was lucky to get to read with socshakes last september and which still lives in my head rent free), sometimes it simply doesn’t work out that way and you’re still left to pick up the pieces and forever wonder what might have been in those final moments on top of it.

living without that—without those answers, without closure, without any sort of comfort, on top of everything else—is so, so hard.

it is widely accepted that the love’s labour’s won mentioned in the catalogues is, in fact, a lost sequel and not an alternate name for any number of surviving shakespeare comedies. and while i have never found love in the manner of any shakespeare comedy, i believe nonetheless that i am living the princess’ story—a young woman, always grieving, trying to learn about life and figure out how to live it in a hostile world, trying to balance all the things, trying to come to terms with closure that will never come to her.

love’s labour’s lost fills me with an ache by the end. a true heartache, a deep emotional pain like few other stories i have ever come across. when i first saw it, i praised it for being messy and real. i saw me in it. i saw my own grief. i saw what i could have been, the kind of person i was before that fateful and fatal summer, the realization that we must leave that self behind because they can no longer navigate this new world, the not wanting to let go, the not understanding why but knowing you have to anyway. to know you have to take the other road.

***

recently, for a local exhibit, a museum asked people in the area to send in writing about their regrets, something they wished had happened differently. mine was eventually one of the ones selected for inclusion. here it is.

in another lifetime, i am there when my father dies.

i am there, holding his hand, feeling the blood that connects us rush through him, hearing his breaths—however shallow.

skin on skin.

i’m able to tell him one last time that i love him, i will always love him. perhaps through all the pain that comes with a pancreatic cancer diagnosis, the sleep-like state he was in for most of the last two days, he will hear me and even respond.

my family can all grieve together, knowing we all saw it happen and we all got a strange sort of closure.

my relationship with him on this earth would not feel like a perpetually unfinished story, with an ending written when i wasn’t even there.

but it is this lifetime.

someone once said grief is just love with no place to go. i believe that. and, well, this is my life. i have to muddle through and believe, make closure out of thin air and time, let love go nowhere and everywhere.

***

so, life imitates art and vice versa. and thank you @socialshakespeare for letting me have this story that has come to mean so much to me in the few short months since i first came across it. <3

[lifeascaty]

I've been away from tumblr for a few months. In October 2021, my Dad was diagnosed with Stage 4 neuroendocrine pancreatic cancer. I felt like my whole world was falling apart. He already followed me on tumblr, so I filled my feed with things he would like so he had something new and interesting (or a cute cat) to see every day. (I was already posting a lot for him, but now my queue was entirely for him.) It was a small thing, but I wanted to do anything to help make him smile or distract him. As it was a neuroendocrine cancer, there were treatment options, and soon he was back to living life as if nothing was wrong. But I still kept my queue running for him. In November 2023, a scan was misread. They told my Dad his cancer was responding well to treatment, and he wouldn't need any more nuclear medicine for two years. Unfortunately, this mistake meant my Dad passed away on January 26th 2024. There's no question that this is the worst thing to ever happen to me. My Dad is the person I am/was closest to in the whole world. I've never felt pain like this. I don't know what to do with my tumblr now. I've had it for over a decade, but I've been posting for my Dad for so long that it feels wrong to post without him. I know that's silly. I just miss him so much.

I'm going to post the eulogy I wrote for him below the cut. I don't expect anyone to read it, but I want it to exist somewhere online. I'm really proud of it. It has mistakes - repetitions of words etc. - but I also think it's the best thing I've ever written, because it's about my Dad.

As a professional writer, I’ve felt a lot of pressure to write a eulogy that does my Dad justice. The problem is, I don’t think that’s possible. Especially without him here to give me notes. My Dad has always given me his opinion on my writing at whatever stage it was at, bouncing ideas back and forth with me and arguing over intricate punctuation but, on this occasion, he can’t. I hope he’d like this anyway.

I could talk forever about my Dad. There are so many things I want to tell people about him, about his love and excitement for the world and his joy in getting to live each day. To quote Marcus Aurelius, as my Dad often did, “When you arise in the morning, think of what a precious privilege it is to be alive – to breathe, to think, to enjoy, to love.” This sentiment defined him, really.

My Dad and I have so much in common. We traded books back and forth. He introduced me to his favourite shows and I showed him mine. He showed me his favourite movies from when he was growing up, and we were always first in line to see new releases at the Odeon in Wrexham. I would spend hours hanging out on the couch in his study as he worked and played music, talking me through his love and admiration of various songs and bands, like Led Zeppelin, Genesis, The Jam, The Smiths. We talked a mile a minute over dinner, always excited to share whatever new thing we’d learned that day. We experimented with various recipes and he gave me my love of cooking. We debated politics constantly, always talked about what was in the news, forwarded interesting posts and memes to each other across multiple social media platforms. Even when I lived on another continent we were in contact with each other every day, keeping track of our respective timezones so we could always find time to talk.

My heart aches every time I read a news article about some interesting new archaeological finding or a new discovery in space, because I want to share it with him. There are so many movies we planned to see, upcoming TV shows we wanted to watch, books we were waiting to be released.

I want to talk to him about the new Taylor Swift album and the Grammys she just won. As some of you may know, my Dad was a Swiftie – he was in the top 0.5% of Taylor Swift Spotify listeners last year. He was a fan of her before I was, often falling asleep to her 1989 album on international flights. He bought us tickets to see her Eras Tour together this summer and we were so excited. I can’t describe the pain I felt when last month he told me that I’d have to go and enjoy it without him. Because he should be here to see it with me. He loved stained glass – even taking classes and making his own artwork. He promised to teach me this summer, and now I’ll have to do it without him. But I’ll still do it. Like I’ll still go to the Eras concert – because it’s what he would have wanted, and because it keeps his memory alive.

I recognise how lucky I am that he is my Dad. So many things had to happen to make it so. Various ancestors had to meet and have children. My parents needed to be born, needed to both decide to go to the same university, needed some anonymous admin person to assign them both to the same university halls where they would ultimately meet. All so that one day I would come in to being and he would be my Dad. The chances of that happening, for everything to have gone right, are so infinitesimally small. And yet they happened. How miraculous is that?

I am who I am because of him. As a young man, he reviewed books for The Oxford Times and Interzone, a Sci-Fi and Fantasy magazine. (He was particularly proud to interview Terry Pratchett, his favourite author, and have his quote used on Pratchett’s books for years to come). He fell in love with stories and storytelling, a love that he passed down to me. Without him, I don’t know if I would have become a screenwriter and author. Storytelling is such a huge part of me, and I don’t know who I’d be without it, and without him. 

There are so many big, impressive things that my Dad did and achieved through his lifetime, but the things that make up a life are the smaller moments. My parents dancing around his study to God Only Knows by The Beach Boys. His love of all our cats across the years and his special relationship with each of them. The time we went out into the garden, on a freezing cold night in November, to watch the Leonids – shooting stars – falling brightly through the atmosphere. Picking me up from Gobowen station every time I came back from London or undergrad, no matter how late my train was. His specific way of stacking the dishwasher that only I could emulate. Summer holidays swimming in the pool, eating ice cream together, and marvelling over his tan.

The problem with loving my Dad so much is that it’s incredibly painful now he’s gone. One of his favourite Marvel TV shows, Wandavision, had the line “what is grief, if not love persevering?” There is so much grief because there has always been so much love between us. And I am thankful for that. Thankful for him, and everything he has done to build a beautiful life for our family.

My Dad’s last words were beautiful. Something we often said to each other, from childhood to adulthood, was “I love you more than the moon, and the stars, and the wide, wide world”. I started saying it to him, none of us knowing the end was hurtling so quickly towards us. He smiled as I began to say the familiar words, and as my Mum and brother joined in, so did he, still smiling as he said “and the wide, wide world”. And that was it.

'To reference Marcus Aurelius once more, he talks in Meditations about how just a day–just a minute–of happiness, of perfection, of peace, is enough. The same goes for the people we love. That we ever had my Dad in the first place is a wonderful thing, something to be so grateful for. Whatever comes after, whatever fortune has in store for us in the future? It can’t change that. What happens next matters less because of the wonderfulness of having had my Dad at all.'

He is my best friend. He will always be my best friend. Whatever happened, I knew he would look after me. That he loved me and cared for me and that with him I was safe. He would look after our family, always. And he did. Even now we’re discovering things he did and put in place to make sure we were okay.

I know I need to stop talking, although, as I said at the beginning, I could talk forever about my Dad. I will finish with a quote from Terry Pratchett: “No one is finally dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away.” Hopefully my Dad will live forever.

[thinkof-england]

Several Sentence Sunday

Alright so I've been putting off participating in anything writing wise because I don't a fun banner or anything and you know what? If I keep waiting for the "right" time to happen to start sharing my writing process, I'll never start, so fuck it. No pretty banner, but here's my first Several Sentence Sunday!

Thank you for the tags @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @duchessdepolignaca03 @getmehighonmagic and @meraki-yao!

This is from my Royally Big Bang fic that is inspired by the book (and movie) The Idea of You.

"

By the time Henry got the kids checked in at the hotel, it was only 2pm, but he was exhausted. All three of the kids wanted to go up to the pool, which was on the roof of their hotel, however, so Henry got changed and sat himself under an umbrella reading in a lounger while they splashed around, talking so animatedly about anything and everything important to 15-year-olds. Their carefree nature left him in a state of awe at points, they were all so uninhibited and so happy and the love they felt for each other was palpable. As much as Henry hated Elliot, he would always be so thankful that they’d created Amelia together. She was the ultimate product of their love and affection and no matter what, she represented the best in them both. 

Dinner was uneventful, at least for Henry. He’d booked them a reservation at a more upscale restaurant on Miami Beach, wanting to indulge them all a little, but especially Amelia. Some would call it spoiling his daughter, but he had the means to give her experiences he’d cherished with his father as a kid, so he would continue to do so. 

Growing up, he’d hated being in the spotlight so much, but it was inevitable seeing as his father was James Bond himself, Arthur Fox. They’d relocated to Los Angeles when Henry was only 8, though they went back to England often enough to visit his mother, Catherine’s, now deceased horror of a mother. There’d been no love lost there when Mary had died of a heart attack shortly before Arthur was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer when Henry was 14. He liked to joke that him coming out was what killed his bigot of a grandmother, but Arthur hated that. He’d always made sure Henry knew how much he was loved and how the person he was was enough, and he didn’t like assigning blame for an untimely death upon his son coming into his own."

No pressure tagging @bigassbowlingballhead @eusuntgratie @inexplicablymine @sparklepocalypse @firenati0n @i-am-freyja and anyone else who wants to join! Tag me if you do so I can read what you share!

[summermil]

𝑡𝑤𝑜 ❀

𝑟𝑎𝑓𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑛 𝑥 𝑓𝑒𝑚 𝑜𝑐

𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝑏𝑎𝑑 𝑓𝑎𝑟𝑡𝚑𝑒𝑟, 𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑦 𝑏𝑖𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡, 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑡𝚑.

𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ꕤ

𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑝𝑎𝑑ೀ

her hair danced in the wind. the cooling feel of the sea breeze hitting her face was enough to distract her from her current predicament. in her room. grounded. for two whole weeks.

it was monday now, and after spending the rest of the weekend in her bedroom, she decided she'd had enough. she was going to disobey her dad's orders and sneak out.

she knew he'd gone to work, but since this was his new job, she had no idea when he'd come back. she wasn't even sure what he did. but she didn't bother worrying about that, as long as she doesn't bump into him during her escape plan, she'll be good as gold.

her room didn't have a lock on it yet, luckily, so she gently pulled open the door. the awful creaking sound echoed through the whole hallway, and she hoped she hadn't disturbed her mom.

the girl danced across the landing and down the stairs, making sure to be as quiet as possible, but when she rounded the corner in the kitchen, she was met with a fright. someone was stood in the kitchen.

she clambered backwards, knocking into the wall in the process, letting a small "ow" slip from her mouth.

"angel?" a small voice called out.

"mom?" was that really her mother calling for her, or had she gone insane?

the blonde peaked round the corner, and sure enough, leant on the kitchen island - was her mom.

"mom!" she exclaimed in shock "what are you doing down here. god, you scared me" a deep breath escaped from her lungs. 

"i was down here the whole time, honey." she chuckled slightly, though it sounded painful.

"i thought you should be resting?"

"yeah well.. your dads out. thought i might get some exercise before he comes back and locks me back up again" angel knew she was joking, but deep down she also knew - it was the truth. 

5 years ago, the doctors diagnosed angels mom, isabelle, with pancreatic cancer. it was rare, she was only young. they didn't know how she developed it, they said she was healthy, so the chances of her becoming cancer free were large. but quickly, they descended. 

every doctor's visit, every hospital appointment, all told them the same thing. they couldn't help her. the cancer had spread too far, and as much as the family pleaded with the doctors, they just couldn't do anything to help her. that was nearly 3 years ago. the hospital warned the family of the life expectancy. so, that's why they moved to the outerbanks.

her dad said it was a fresh start, her mom had always loved the beach. when angel was growing up, she was given the nickname jelly. her mom had started it, taking inspiration from the jellyfish that always washed up on her home town beach.

angel took that as a motto in life. she never let anyone close enough to sting her. maybe that wasn't good for her. that's why she liked this fresh start, new experiences, new people, she hoped it would be better than the last.

deep down though, she was upset. she knew the only reason they moved here was because her mom was dying. she didn't have very long left to live, and she wanted to be by the beach for her final months.

angel was angry. angry at the world for trying to take her mom away from her. she knew she'd have to live with her dad, but she had hope her mom would hold on, she had hope that they would run away together - her, tommy and her mom- then start a new life somewhere away from all the pain. but that was more of a dream.

the days we're getting closer and closer, the ticking sound of a clock echoed in her head when she thought about it. but, it wasn't happening now, her mom was alive, in fact, she was stood right in front of her.

"hey" the same voice snapped her out of her trance. "didn't your dad say you were grounded? i heard something along those lines, but i was so dosed up on pain meds.. i didn't really understand"

"no...no" the girl denied it. "he might have been talking to tommy, definitely wasn't talking to me" her voice went higher at the end. she knew her mom suspected something, but alas - she let her off.

"alright.." the older woman yawned, stretching her joints and wincing slightly when she pushed them too far. 

"i'm gonna go out, mom. is that okay?" angel asked, praying the slight waver in her voice wasn't a giveaway. 

"now?"

"yeah..i.. ya know, i just thought i'd explore the island" 

her mom snorted "well, maybe if you didn't spend all day in your bedroom yesterday, you could have gone out then"

angel thought she'd caught on to her lie, she was ready to accept defeat and head back to her bedroom.

"but, of course, you can go out jelly, just be safe.. okay?"

she almost cheered. "yes mom, thanks, i love you, bye" the rushed string of words left her mouth as she grabbed the house keys off the rack and practically sprinted out the front door. finally free.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

the sound of the waves crashing were comforting. when she was little, the only way she could fall asleep was with the sounds of the sea echoing around her room. she grew out of it, but the noise always seemed to bring her comfort.

so did the feeling of sand on her feet, the wind in her hair, the salty taste of the ocean. 

perched on a rock, angel began thinking. how her life could have been different. she wished she could turn back time, undo her mistakes and maybe even fight for her mother a bit more. she always believed it was her fault she was dying. she's dying. her mom is dying and there is absolutely nothing she can do about it.

salty tears rolled down her face. she just wanted life to be normal- why couldn't anything go her way? she wrapped her arms around herself in comfort, shaking on a rock in the middle of the beach.

"hey" it was quiet, barely there. angel ignored it at first, probably just another voice her head had made up. 

"hey, are you alright?" it was louder this time, whoever was speaking was close.

the girl turned around cautiously, but instead of a threat being behind her, it was another girl. her brown eyes locked onto angels blue ones, the girl's eyes were caring, kind. she had dirty blonde hair and as angel recognised she was not a threat, she also noticed her mouth moving.

everything seemed to come crashing back on her then. the sound of the waves, the chill of the air and the question that was coming out of this stranger's mouth. angel shot up onto her feet, frantically wiping the tears from her face and forcing a fake smile. 

"are you alright? you didn't answer for a second" the girl asked.

"uh, yeah I'm o-okay" she winced at her voice cracking, scolding herself for showing vulnerability to a stranger.

"I'm sarah" she gave a friendly smile. "i don't think I've seen you around before"

"uh no, i- we just moved here" for fucks sake angel, speak like a normal person "im angel, nice to meet you"

"cool... where do you live?" sarah responded.

angel thought it was a bit strange to give a stranger her address, she hadn't even known this girl for a minute. but she trusted her for some reason. her mom's words swam around in her head.

'don't let them get too close angel, they'll leave you with a horrible sting'

"i know that's a strange question" the other girl laughed, taking angels silence as an answer. "you don't have to answer if you don't want to"

fuck it, she decided. she wanted to make new friends? well, she had to start here. so, she told the stranger her address.

sarah looked shocked for a second, before her face lit up in excitement. "are you serious?" she had a hint of a smile pulling at her lips.

angel couldn't help but feel a small smile form on her face as well. maybe the people around here were nice, maybe moving here was a good decision. 

"yeah, we moved in about.. 3 days ago"

"we're neighbours!" sarah exclaimed, happily.

"oh my god, really?" angel matched her energy.

"yes, how did i not notice" she threw her hands in the air.

"do you- do you have a brother?" angel couldn't help but ask, the guy she'd seen on the motorbike that night, had to be part of her family, right?

"yeah, i live with my dad, his wife, my brother and my younger sister" 

"i think i saw your dad.. and your brother" angel hoped sarah didn't think she was trying to pry out information about him. 

"yeah.. they don't get along well" the girl's mood changed slightly and angel noticed a shift in the air.

"i don't get along with my dad either, he favourites my younger brother more" 

"is it just you, your brother and your dad?" 

"no.. my moms with us too, she's just... ill at the moment"

sarah gave a sympathetic smile, "i hope she gets better"

"thanks" her words hit angel like a ton of bricks. she won't get better, she's dying, she won't survive, she won't li-

"hey, me and my friends are hanging out down the other end of the beach. wanna join?" the brown eyed girl asked, extending her hand for angel to take.

new people? maybe she could make some more friends. "sure, why not" she smiled, grabbing her newfound friend's hand and letting her drag her down the beach.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

the two girls had made it about halfway back down the beach when sarah noticed angel was shivering and had her arms wrapped around herself for warmth, she wondered if the new girl just wasn't used to the coastal wind chill. so she offered up her jacket. 

"take this" she said after she slipped off the jacket to hand it to her new friend.

"are you sure?" angel asked, "i don't want you to get cold."

"I've lived here all my life angel, I'm used to it"

"okay, thanks" angel took the jacket with a small smile, slipping it over her shoulders. she then noticed something in the distance, a bright orange glow. almost like a fire? she looked around realising just how long she had been out. the sun was setting, leaving a beautiful reflection on the water. but it was getting dark, hence the fire in the distance. 

"do you see that?" she asked sarah, pointing her shaky hand in the direction of the light, realising that she'd been out so long and forgotten to have breakfast that morning.

"yeah" she replied back, happily. "that's my friends, come on" she chuckled before jogging in the direction of the fire.

angel could see them now, there was 4 other people sat on logs around a mini camp fire. she didn't run to catch up with sarah. she just picked up her pace a bit, letting her feet drag through the sand. 

the warmth from the fire was much appreciated by angel when she walked up next to the log sarah had sat herself on. she had sat by a boy with grown out shaggy hair, he was wearing a shirt and by the looks of how cosy him and sarah seemed, she could only assume that was her boyfriend. there was no room on that certain seat so angel casted her eyes around. the next available space was by the only other girl. she had darker skin and her hair held beautiful curls.

"guys this is my friend, angel, i met her.. just now, we're neighbours!" sarah beamed out to her friends. nobody said anything, but now all eyes were on her.

"uh, hi im... yeah, I'm angel" she gave an awkward wave cursing herself for not being able to talk to people at all.

"so.. you're a kook" the girl with the curls asked, crossing her arms over her chest in annoyance.

"kiara!" sarah scolded, giving her a look.

"what's a.. kook?" angel was confused, what was a 'kook' and why did this kiara girl seem so bothered?

"you don't know?" the blonde guy sat farthest away spoke up. angel shook her head.

he sighed. "pope, get up" he guided the guy next to him to sit down next to kiara, patting the, now empty, log bedside him. "sit" he ordered angel, looking her in the eyes.

"okay.." angel was scared about this strange group of people. hell, she met sarah about half an hour ago and she thought she could trust her just because they're neighbours? shit. what have i got myself into? her eyes darted around nervously as she took a seat.

"jj" sarah warned, "be nice". 

be nice?  angel thought, suddenly panicking, looking around for any escape or another human who could save her. she was convinced they were going to kill her, on this secluded part of the beach where nobody was around. these thoughts quickly put a chill through her bones, making the warmth from the fire practically useless. she wrapped sarah's jacket around herself tighter, basking in the slight warmth it gave her.

a hand nudged against her arm, snapping her out of her daydream. once again she had gotten to overwhelmed and zoned out. the guy with messy blonde hair who sarah called 'jj' started speaking to her again. "are you good? you looked scared. c'mon, we're not that scary" he laughed a little.

angel, despite her thoughts, felt the corners of her mouth turn up a tiny bit. although she thought they might murder her, her flight or fight wasn't kicking in, she didn't have butterflies in her stomach and her gut instinct wasn't telling her to run. maybe she was okay. so, she muttered out an apology and reverted the conversation. 

"so.. what's a kook?"

everybody sighed, finally realising she actually didn't know what a kook was. they all drew their eyes to jj, he sighed before speaking up.

"there are two sides to this island, figure eight and the cut. the kooks.. and the pogues."

"okay? i still don't understand" angel didn't get any of this.

"the kooks are the rich families. they have nice houses, nice cars, big parties and lots of money"

"so your a kook" kiara spoke up. "and so is sarah" from the expression on her face angel could tell nobody in this circle liked the kooks.

"is that a bad thing?" 

"ye-"

"no!" sarah shouted over kiara. "being a kook is... fine."

"see the pogues and the kooks don't like each other.. it's like, a rivalry" jj carried on his explanation.

"why not?" the blonde girl asked.

"man, because-"

"because the kooks are stuck up pigs who have too much money and only care for themselves" kiara interrupted again, abruptly standing up from her seat and stomping off the beach. angel opened her mouth in shock. is she going to be known as a 'kook' now. she hoped not, how hard would it be to get people to like her after this reaction?

the boy who was addressed as 'pope' stood up and turned in the direction kiara had gone. "uh.. i better go.. check on her" he stuttered out, walking in her direction.

"yeah.. me too" jj said standing up to follow his friends. he waved awkwardly before scurrying off in the same direction.

angel turned back to sarah, bewildered at what just happened. sarah opened her mouth quickly to try and stop the hurt that washed over her new friend's face. but it was too late, as a tear had already fell from her eye. she untangled herself from john b and ran over to sit with the other kook.

"it's okay" she whispered, slinging an arm around angels shoulders. "she just.. overreacted, that's all" 

"i don't understand" tears ran down her face but her features kept expressionless, eyes glowing in the ambers of the fire as she stared into it. "why don't they like me"

"they do like you" the boy exclaimed from the other side. "they just.. don't trust new people"

angel's head fell into her hands, missing the look sarah had gave him. this day had gone worse to good to shit all over again. 'they don't trust new people'. what does that even mean?

"I'm sorry" she sniffled.

"why are you apologising? we should be saying sorry to you" sarah said

"you only met me like, half an hour ago.. now I'm crying into your arms"

sarah held her closer, rubbing her shoulder in a comforting manner. "it's okay, besides, i think I've known you longer than that. it's getting dark... we should go home, c'mon i'll walk you" she gave angel a friendly smile, guiding them both to stand up. 

"ill see you tomorrow john b.. bye" she bid goodbye to her boyfriend and, with her arm still around angel's shoulders, began walking back home. they walked back in a comforting silence. with sarah being slightly taller than the other girl, she was able to rest her head on her shoulders.

the walk wasn't long, so they arrived back quite quickly. sarah stopped them at the gates of angels house. she laughed slightly. "my dads gonna be pissed"

sarah looked at her with sympathy. "quick, go inside then, before he sees you"

"okay.. can i see you tomorrow?" angel asked, sheepishly.

"of course" sarah beamed. "come round whenever, okay" she searched for something in her pocket, pulling out a phone and handing it to her. "type your number in, ill text you" 

"okay.. here" angel typed in her number quickly, bidding goodbye to her new friend before scurrying up to her house.

the front door didn't squeak, luckily, considering the building was quite new. she tiptoed across the foyer and up the wooden staircase. at the top of the staircase, there was a table. a table with a vase. a table with a vase that she managed to bump into, creating a ringing sound across the house. she wasted no time bolting to her room, opening the door and collapsing on the bed in exhaustion. luckily, her mom and dad's room was up another story, although she was sure that wouldn't be for long, considering her mum was struggling to get up and down the first flight of stairs as it was.

she unwillingly pulled herself off the bed to change into something more comfy, realising she still had on sarah's jacket. as sleep engulfed her, she made a mental note to take it back tomorrow.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

outside her window, the bird chirped happily, angel woke up peacefully. then remembered the shenanigans that happened last night. letting out a loud groan, she pulled herself up from her bed and trudged to the bathroom, turning on the shower. she let the warm water engulf her body as she zoned out. eventually returning back to her room after she'd done her hair care, skin care and beauty routine. 

"angel" she heard from outside her door. 

she rolled her eyes "just a minute tommy" quickly throwing on some random clothes, she hesitantly twisted the door knob and cracked open the door, pondering what her younger brother was up to. but to her surprise, he didn't try to hit her with a hand full of whipped cream, or throw a ball at her face.

"yes? what do you need" she eyed him suspiciously.

"i saw you last night" he responded, cheekily.

"tommy" she scolded, dragging him by his shirt into her room. earning a series of 'ows' as she shut the door in a hurry. "keep your voice down, he'll hear"

"what?" the boy furrowed his brows. "he's at work, what are you talking about"

"huh?" angel picked up her phone, checking the time to see that it was indeed, one in the afternoon. she let her eyes scan down the screen. seeing a text from an unknown number. oh, it was sarah. she remembered she'd given the girl her phone number last night. but that also reminds her. the jacket. 

"tommy, I'm going out now okay, so..keep your mouth shut and be good" she pointed a finger at him.

"what's it for me" he asked

she sighed "what do you want"

he stood with his hands on his hips "i want to go to...that basketball court mom was telling me about!"

"alright, ill take you there" she begrudgingly agreed, not even thinking about the fact she was still grounded for 2 weeks. "now get out"

the boy sassily walked out, not before sticking his tongue out at his older sister, typical. she rolled her eyes and started picking out an outfit to go see her new friend again. also remembering to chuck the jacket over her shoulder to return.

she got down the stairs to the front door, hesitating before she opened it. "bye" she shouted into the house, hoping that her mom could hear her if she was awake. angel waited a minute but got no response, so she sighed and stepped out of the house, gently shutting the door behind her.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

the walk over to sarah's front gate was less than a minute. she'd walked quite fast though, itching to get away from her own house. she punched in the code that sarah had texted her, watching as the front gate peeled open to reveal a beautiful house with a wide balcony looking over the town. angel admired it as she wandered up to the front door.

when she arrived she spotted a small bell on the wall to the side, deciding to ring it instead. she doubted a small knock would be heard in a house like this. the bell echoed around the walls of the building. through the glass door, she could see a figure approaching, not clearly though - since the panels were frosted.

but the figure looked quite tall, she was confused for a second. until the door handle twisted and swung open to reveal a tall boy in a polo shirt with khaki shorts on. she craned her neck slightly to look up at him and her eyes widened in shock.

oh my god...

[zionchubby14]

I wasn't sure if I was going to make a post about this, but this is something I feel like I need to do, especially for those who know and care about me (I know, people care on here? That's crazy.). I'm definitely going to struggle typing this all out, but...here it goes.

_____

So over the past month (and quite possibly earlier), Mom has been dealing some abdominal pain that radiates to her back. The pain would be so bad that it would cause her to throw up at times. She barely ate and slept while this was going on. On January 6th, things finally came to a head and we made the call to take her to the hospital.

When she first came in, she was diagnosed as suffering from pancreatitis (for those who don't know, it's inflammation of the pancreas that, if left untreated, can cause a high amount of pain and nausea to the person. There's two types of pancreatitis: acute, which is very treatable and will go away after a while, and chronic, which will last a lot longer and hurt more). They were able to treat her and she felt better for a while, discharging her after 3 days. When they released her, they wanted her to get a endoscopy test done up at a hospital in Royal Oak. With neither Mom or I having a car, this was difficult for us to do. But we would come to know why soon enough.

Mom came home and for a day or two, she seemed fine. She ate well and was able to sleep soundly, which I thought was the important thing. But the pain and nausea eventually came back with a vengeance We tried every the hospital doctors had told us: heating pads, soft to liquid diet, pain patches. Nothing was working. Her primary care doctor even had her go on some antibiotics and a stronger pain med than she had, but nothing seemed to help matters. We took her back to the hospital this past Saturday, January 20th.

When we initially got there, after they had done a CT scan on Mom, they said that the pancreatitis was gone. But what was left was a mass on her pancreas. Scared and unsure as to what it may be, they admitted her and has been in the hospital since. On Tuesday, they took her to the University of Toledo Medical Center for the endoscopy and see what the mass might be. They did the scope and drew fluid from the mass for testing.

On Wednesday, we get the news that it is cancer. More precisely, metastatic pancreatic adenocarcinoma. In layman's terms, it's Stage IV pancreatic cancer, not curable.

I could not believe it...

We don't really know how long she may have left, but the rough and harsh estimate is less than 6 months...

Needless to say, I broke down, not in front of Mom or my brothers (who have been with Mom and I throughout this whole thing).

I can't imagine being here on Earth without Mom and I'm somehow going to have to figure out how to...I panicked and wanted to run away...a moment of weakness...

I don't know what will happen between now and the inevitable day, but we all agreed that we're going to try and make the most out of the days she does have left. I know that there will be bad days ahead, and there'll be good days as well.

But it's tough, knowing that the last few years I've been taking care of her (and complaining about her behavior, which is making me feel guilty about, now that this is happening) and it's going to come to an end.

_____

I know this isn't the greatest of things to post on here, but I needed some therapeutic way to get some of the emotions I am feeling right now out and to inform you all of what has been going on. I thank you all for the thoughts and positive vibes before and coming in the future. It's going to be a rough time ahead and I hope you will all bear with me in the meantime.

I love you all.

[bouncyballcitadel]

4 11 12 for vic and grey? if not spoilers obvs ✨

Has your character ever witnessed something that fundamentally changed them? If so, does anyone else know?

Vic: They're about to in Case Three.

Dr. Grey: He took time off from college to take care of his dad after his dad was diagnosed with late-stage pancreatic cancer. He doesn't really like talking about that time period in his life.

In what situation was your character the most afraid they’ve ever been?

Vic: Their dad got pretty badly injured at work when they were a teenager.

Dr. Grey: The birth of his kid. It was the best moment of his life. But, also the most afraid he's ever been - the kind of visceral fear that comes from wanting to protect your child, and knowing that you can't keep them safe from everything.

In what situation was your character the most calm they’ve ever been?

Vic: The summer after the end of high school, when they really could just relax. College was still a few months off, they were dating someone they truly loved, and life was pretty fucking beautiful.

Dr. Grey: Right after his dad passed away, in those initial minutes afterward. He'd been dreading the actual moment for so long that when it actually happened, he wasn't even sure it was real. He closed his dad's eyes, sat with dad for a few more minutes, and then called the funeral home.

[arionawrites]

currently reading the first story i ever finished that i haven’t really looked at in literal years and omg

for a bit of context: i wrote a story based on the idea of peter pan being an angel of death and checking in on his future lost boys throughout their childhoods until the day they eventually die and join him in neverland. the entire story (only like 6.8k words) is from peter pan’s perspective while he checks in periodically on his soon-to-be lost boy, a trans diabetic kid named stephan who develops pancreatic cancer and dies at the end. (this was 100% me venting my anxieties of being diabetic and potentially developing pancreatic cancer as, at the time of me taking this class, i had been diagnosed as diabetic less than a year prior.)

here’s a few lines from it that while reading i kept being like “my 15 year old self wrote this???? DAMN”

He was used to the feeling. Actually, no—he was familiar with the feeling. There was no way he could ever get use to the pressure in his chest or the way his hands shook uncontrollably. It was merely something he had experienced before, with the lost boys he dealt with in the past.

It was a feeling of urgency, the need to help with something he wasn’t aware of clawing at his throat until he was dizzy with anxiety and stumbling wherever his feet took him.

-

After a moment of silence, he decided to ask, “Did you have a nightmarw?”

“Yes,” Stephan whispered. They were staring at the pattern on their blanket, fresh tears still falling from their eyes.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

It didn’t look as if they would respond anytime soon, so Peter made his way to the rocking chair placed in the corner of the room and sat, patiently waiting for an answer.

“It was just sad,” Stephan eventually said. There was no telling how much time had passed (though it didn’t feel like a lot), but Peter didn’t mind. “I was at a beach with my mom and my dad. We got in the water to go swimming, but we went too far and they went underwater and didn’t come back up.” They shrugged, as if trying to dismiss the fact that they were upset. “I was just trying not to go underwater for the rest of it. I guess it was a little scary ‘cause of that.”

Peter nodded. “Are you afraid of swimming?”

Stephan quickly shook their head. “No, I love to swim!” They then shrugged again, only now it was clearly out of confusion: “I don’t know… I was just scared of not coming back up like they did.”

“I understand.”

Stephan sighed, letting their body fall against the pillow. Neither of them tried to talk—Peter’s presence was enough to make Stephan feel at ease. It was only a matter of time before the child fell asleep once more.

-

After that, the visits became a little different. Stephan stopped letting Peter in, instead glancing up at him and acting like they hadn’t noticed his presence. He wasn’t sure what had changed for a while before it clicked—Stephan had reached the phase of disbelief.

This phase was very common with the lost boys. It was that period of time (usually starting around the age of ten or eleven and only ever ending when Peter brought them to Neverland) where the child came to the conclusion that Peter was only an imaginary friend that they would never see again. It was quite difficult not being able to say hello anymore, but he knew he had to keep visiting them.

He knew what age they needed to be before he could take them with him, but sometimes things happened that ended with him having to lead them to Neverland earlier than planned. Those circumstances were never very pleasant, but Peter couldn’t prevent them from happening. All he could do was as try to make it easier for the child who had just suffered a great deal of trauma.

Knowing that the phase of disbelief had begun with Stephan made Peter’s chest ache. He couldn’t help anymore, not until it was time for Stephan to leave. All he could do was watch, wait, and hope for the best.

-

Peter’s pain came from watching the hurt in Stephan’s eyes grow stronger as the teenager grew weaker. He counted down the days until Stephan’s sixteenth birthday, afraid of the inevitable day of departure that he couldn’t determine the exact date of. He didn’t want Stephan to die—he didn’t want any of his lost boys to die, but it was what it was and at least he knew that they would all have fun in Neverland after the traumatic experience. The during was hard, but the after was better and that was what made it okay in the end.

That didn’t make Peter’s heart ache any less, though, as he visited twice a week and noticed every way that Stephan’s condition got worse. He never left his room unless he had to, always wallowing in self-pity and despair under the warmth of his duvet. Peter was once again left with the struggle of wanting to help but knowing he couldn’t.

-

“Is that me?” A voice said, sounding small and afraid. Peter sighed softly, ignoring the ache in his chest and nodding in response. He didn’t bother looking at the person for a few seconds since he knew who it was, and instead let his eyes stay closed until he knew he wouldn’t cry. By the time he looked to his right, to the owner of the voice, Stephan was already in tears. “No… No, that can’t be me. If that’s me, then I’m—”

Peter nodded again, lips tugging down into a frown as he stood. “I know. I’m sorry, Stephan.”

Stephan shook his head, jaw dropping in shock. “But… I’m not dead. Not yet. I can’t be, not so soon. I just…” He trailed off, still moving his head from side to side in denial. “I just turned sixteen. I can’t die now!” He buried his head into his hands, wailing into his palms as sobs wracked his whole body. Peter watched, a lump forming in his throat as he held back his own cries. A few tears slipped down his cheeks, but he quickly wiped them away and acted as if they never existed. He was Peter Pan, after all—the collector of lost boys, the one who stayed strong and took childrwn to a happy place after their deaths. It wasn’t his place to cry.

That didn’t change the fact that he cried for every lost boy he had.

Eventually, Stephan’s loud cries lessened into sniffles, hiccups and a wavering voice. “What now, then? What happens now?”

Peter smiled slightly, sadly, knowing that the hardest part of the struggle had been dealt with. He placed a hand on Stephan’s shoulder and replied, “Now?” He les them both toward the window and nodded up at the stars shining brightly in the sky. “Now everything will be okay. You’re a lost boy, just like you said you wanted to be.”

it’s like. it’s not amazing or anything—with my current writing style, it would have been a lot longer, a lot more in depth and detailed with more scenes to explore both this idea of Peter Pan as well as the like process of him knowing who his next lost boy is etc etc

but i was 15 and before this i had never had a story that i fully wrote from start to finish. i always left them half done and forgotten. and for 15, this really isn’t bad, either. and it’s really interesting how i can see certain aspects of my writing style that i’ve carried with me since i was 15, as well as the differences.

idk i just. i haven’t read this in a really long time and i’m feeling very proud of it right now lmao.

[dbenvs3000w24]

my sense of my place.

Hi everyone! My name is Daena, and I am a fifth-year arts and sciences student at the university. I’m really looking forward to our discussions and reading all your posts 😊

Let’s dive into this week’s topic, a sense of place.

In the summer of 2020, in a house too small and with nothing to do, it felt like all I did was walk in nature. My roommate at the time had shown me this fantastic hiking trail that went through the Guelph Lake conservation area, and later, we would have competitions on who could take the best picture of a sunset. Those moments will always remain nostalgic – walking through the forest with nothing but my thoughts and the occasional chittering from a squirrel or the bloop of a fish surfacing. Those were the days that I felt as connected to nature as I did when I was a kid. Many of these walks made me reflect on how much connection I had to nature as a kid and how I have lost a lot of that connection since.

Every summer, without fail, my mom would drop my sister and me off at our grandparent’s farm for a few weeks. Now, I use the word ‘farm’ as a general word. This was no large operation, nor did it have your classic chickens, cows, or sheep. This farm had horses, which were my grandfather’s pride and joy, outside his regular job. In other words, these horses were my grandfather’s huge pets, and he had had them continuously since 1977.

On this ten-acre farm, my sister and I had space to run all of our elementary school energy out, and it was one of the places we most consistently spent enjoying nature and time with our grandparents. We had acres of fields and forest that led to a conservation area where we would go on walks, a garden you could see (quite literally) from space, and horses that were gentle with wacky names.

One of my earliest memories on that farm is when my grandfather had recently tilled his massive garden. My five-year-old self thought dirt felt so cool, and I figured out what happened when you added water to the soil. I still remember my grandfather’s smile in that moment 18 years later. (there is an awesome photo of this moment, but I currently can’t find it ☹)

But all good things must come to an end.

As the years passed and we got older, my sister and I spent fewer summers at the farm and lost a lot of that consistent connection with nature. Our lives became busy with academics and friends that our time at the farm diminished, but thankfully, our time and connection with our grandparents did not.

My grandfather was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in 2017 and passed away shortly after New Year’s Day in 2019. I remember that devastating day that was filled with grief. I know my grandmother and the rest of my family (myself included) still miss him every day.

My grandfather left his grandchildren a legacy and reminder of how essential nature is, how to respect it, and how to nurture it. I can only hope to be half the person with nature that he was.

[on-call-ramblings]

Did you know that the stages of grief (denial, anger, depression, bargaining, and acceptance) are also the stages of finding out you are going to die? Actually, this was what they were initially intended to be after Elizabeth Kubler-Ross did an extended study of people with terminal illnesses. It just so happens to be an incredibly similar process for the bereaved. Sometimes, you begin these phases of grief while your loved one is still alive.

Yesterday marks the 10 year anniversary of finding out my dad was diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer. He was given five months to live, and that was after he decided to extend his life for a few months with chemo treatments because he wanted one last anniversary with my mom.

Today, I had coffee and waffles with my mom in one of my favorite places in the world after my nephew’s birthday party. She commented that if we could have seen ourselves in 10 years into the future to see that we made it, and that things would eventually be okay it may have made things slightly easier. I told her that it may have made things easier on dad too, knowing we would be okay. He was the sole breadwinner of the house, the rock of our family, and an all around fantastic human being. Aside from that worry, it turns out the thing he carried the most guilt about was leaving me without a dad when I was a teen. I didn’t know this until this afternoon. I would love to inform him that it’s absurd to feel guilty about something he has very little control over but I digress.

I had a lot of friends and neighbors without dads or horrid dads growing up, and he saw what it could do it a kid. I think, during his depression stage, the reality of things he never taught me, the important events in my life he’d miss, and the reality of leaving me fatherless at 15 really started to sink in. Of course, he wouldn’t let me know these things. I found out from my mom after the fact. Thankfully my mom was there to reassure him that he did a fantastic job, and because of that I would be okay.

And she was right

Every life lesson, every ounce of love, every hug, every trip taken and rule broken is something I’ll carry with me for the rest of my life. Nothing can take that from me. And if you’re reading this, thinking about a loved one you lost: nothing can take that from you either. I would be lying to say it still hurts like hell some days that he’s not here. I wish he could have been there for some of the biggest moments in my life. But he was here just long enough to instill some foundations in core beliefs in me. And what could be more precious than that?

When my dad finally got close to the acceptance phase, he decided to go on a small adventure with me with what little energy he had left. Unfortunately for him, I did the all the driving with the learners permit I had obtained 2 months ago (maybe he was trying to speed up the process, idk). This lead to the core memory of stumbling across a berry farm in the fall and getting the largest pumpkin they had at the time. My dad loved Halloween, and him returning home with the biggest shit eating grin was something my mom was later thankful for once we figured out wtf to do with the pumpkin.

[momokyuuu]

When my dad died in late January of my senior year of highschool, people brought so much food over. He was married to my mom for around 30 years, and passed at 81 (I'm adopted). He got diagnosed on Thanksgiving. Pancreatic cancer is rough on the person with it, and it was tough watching it happen. I'm going to always be thankful to my friends who took me in for the last two weeks my dad was in hospice, but that's a different story.

I cannot stress how important bringing food was. My mom could barely do more than make herself a salad, and I'm utterly useless in the kitchen, much less in a situation like this. But multiple people brought food or prepared a dish for my mom and I.

The most helpful dish I got was spaghetti. It was easy to freeze, and tasted good heated up. We got a bunch of coupons to get a ready made meal from the local pizza/italian restaraunt, and I am immensely grateful. Having food brought over allowed my mom relearn what her new normal was, for the 3rd time since the diagnosis.

The motions of cooking was something she mostly did for Dad, and not for herself. So making meals was really hard at the time, because it was so tied to my dad.

Please, order a deli plate. Make something if you can, or even just a coupon so you can deliver food to yourself. It was one of the ways my mom and I knew people cared beyond sympathies.

hey since i’m occasionally giving out adult advice. anyone wanna know my very adult and very boring and very sensible suggestion for grief gifts for friends and family when someone close to them dies

[vikiblood]

Need advice, this is too long: So, in the last two months, something has been happening to me lately. First, let me tell you, that I was always very understanding, and if some situation annoyed me I would always find a way to ignore it and just brush it off. Five years ago my father was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and I, his only daughter, left everything to take care of him. I worked, then went home and helped with anything my mother needed, so I could make her burden more bearable. Last year he developed dementia and our world became so dark and lonely; is not like we didn't have people around us, but at the end of the day, it was just the two of us, taking care of him, cleaning, changing diapers, etc. My dad died two months ago and something in me just, I don't know how to explain. Two examples; eight days ago was my birthday, and one of my best friends sent me a message accusing me of badmouthing her father, that I told her, in our last conversation, that her father was a drunk. Just to be clear, that conversation was 15 days before my birthday, and I never said that, I did mention that I met her dad on the street and that he smelled like wine. She never said anything to me until that message and I had no idea what was happening I asked her to clarify, and then she told me I was an awful friend and that I was trying to make her look crazy, she is schizophrenic and I was very concern, but then I realized that when her mother dies, last year, I was there, in every step, helping her, and on her first birthday without her, I was by her side. And I just didn't care anymore, I didn't even respond to her, I found her near my home a couple of days ago, she lives three houses down from my house, and I just kept walking, didn't talk to her, I don't care how she feels or anything like that, and I know her for more than thirty years. And today, I was waiting for a doctor's appointment, for the first time that I had left the house in weeks, I was very sick with pneumonia, I was in MacDonals for a treat, a cappuccino, and some pastries, and this guy approach me to ask for money, and I always give them something or very polite said no, this time, a hard no and just ignored him, I was not like that, but I feel like so many things they were important to me before are now stupid impositions, why I should care for someone who doesn't care about me, why I need to be polite all the time when all I want is to be left alone to drink my coffee in peace. As if all these years especially the last one changed me into a person that doesn't give a crap about other people's problems or situations, and I'm not sure I like that. Anyway, I just need to write this down.

[drkumaragurubaran1]

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