Does Anyone Really "Beat" Cancer? (or any other incurable illness)
I have so many health problems that I often forget about some of them until they are thrust back into the forefront of my mind and life. Some of these temporarily forgotten health problems are incurable things like cancer, tumors, and variations of Systemic Mastocytosis symptoms which make their appearances much less frequently.
My primary illness, Systemic Mastocytosis, is in the forefront most days. My spinal injuries are in the forefront at all times because these injuries affect everything I want to do, everything I attempt to do and the pain never goes away. Sometimes, however, something happens or I see something to remind me of the things which I do purposefully push to the back of my mind and would prefer to forget.
I suppose this idea of pushing things to the back of one's mind is a way of coping. I purposely try to let go of all the things I cannot control. I don't want to needlessly worry about these things because, hey, I really can't do a damn thing about them so I must just 'let them go' whenever feasible. As a result, I push these things to the back of my mind... they sort of just simmer there, on hold, because I know I will need to deal with them again at some point.
Last night, a sitcom reminded me of one of these health issues which is always just simmering on that back burner in the almost-forgotten recesses of my mind. The show also instantly reminded me of the reality and seriousness of this issue as well as the fragility of life.. even the fragility of life of a "healthy" person.
Early in my diagnostic stage (2001-2005), I had a large team of specialists trying to find some answers for my myriad of debilitating symptoms. It wasn't until my symptoms worsened enough to land me in the hospital numerous times that one of these doctors was finally able to fit most of the pieces of this crazy puzzle together.
My symptoms seemed to be indicating that I was developing Multiple Sclerosis so I was regularly seeing a neurologist who specializes in MS. Many of my symptoms involved neurological problems which were, for the most part, triggered by exposure to warm environments. These symptoms were transient in time and space but a few problems were consistent more often than not.
I struggled with hand tremors, inability to move my legs, difficulty speaking, dizziness. I was falling down a lot, I had numbness, I had tingling, and I had vision problems. I had incontinence at times. These symptoms would come and go but were quite severe and oftentimes lasted a week or two at a time.
I was at one hospital or another weekly just to see one of my many specialists so they could run a few new tests as well as recurring tests. Some tests were very invasive, some were passive and quite easy. One of the recurring passive tests was an MRI of my brain and cervical spine to keep an eye on MS-type lesions. Then a week or so later after each of these recurring MRI's, I would see my MS specialist to go over the results and again do another full examination.
Typically, when I visited my neurologist after one of these MRI's, he would just quickly summarize the latest MRI findings in his own words. One day, however, things went a little bit differently...
On this particular day, my doc handed me a copy of the MRI report so I could follow along as he reviewed each part. I'm a pretty fast reader and was already on page two while my doc was still explaining the first part of findings on page one. My doc just paused and watched me... he had already known me well enough to know that I like to do a quick skim of the results first. He knew I liked to ask questions. Unfortunately, I was stuck on a paragraph on page two which described an incidental finding... although they were not looking for it, they found a brain tumor.
I pointed down at the paragraph in the report in my hand as I asked, "What is this about an incidental finding?" My doc calmly said, "Yes... we need to discuss that..."
At this point, my doc knew that any discussion about MS-type lesions would be lost on me. My mind was reeling and I had a million questions in a big jumble in my head. "What type of specialist must I add to my team of doctors?" "How soon can I get in to see this new specialist?" "What do we do for this type of tumor?" "Is it malignant?" "How do we determine if it is malignant?" "Do I still need to be worked up for MS by you?" "Is this tumor the source of all my problems?" "What do we do now?"
I have to give my doc credit... he was exceptionally patient, calm and understanding. Even then I was keenly aware of his usual thoughtfulness and understanding. This particular doctor was always a great doctor. He clearly listened to his patients and always patiently answered those questions but a few short years later I learned that perhaps one of the reasons my doc was so patient and understanding with me on this particular fateful day was because he, too, had a tumor and was quite sick. Unbeknownst to either of us at the time, he would soon succumb to cancer. For now, however, he was sitting next to me... calm... patient... understanding... and answering all my questions as I could formulate them.
He referred me to a team of endocrinologists. My tumor was in the dead-center of the brain on my pituitary gland. He explained that he felt this tumor probably had no bearing on most of my symptoms but could be affecting my vision, dizziness and tingling/numbness on the top of my head. He felt it would be best to be worked up by a team of endocrinologists and still return to him for continued testing for MS. Hmmm... I never gave it much thought and had always assumed it would be only one illness causing my problems but now I'm being told I have a brain tumor and that I would need to continue to be worked up for MS too... oh joy.
The following year or so was a blur. My MS specialist-neurologist advised me to ensure my affairs are in order before my health deteriorates further. My team of endocrinologists were testing and testing and testing. Blue Cross/Blue Shield assigned a nurse to me to act as an advisor and healthcare case manager. My health was so poor and unstable at this point in my life that at one visit to my endocrinologists, I lost consciousness and collapsed in the waiting room and awoke to being completely surrounded by visibly shaken doctors. There was a roomful of doctors around me and they were visibly shaken! My team of doctors felt this new development probably was not related to any of my current findings.... so what now? Does this mean a third issue plus my extensive spinal injuries?
The team of endocrinologists found no clear signs that the tumor was affecting my overall health so, for the time being, we just waited, continued regular testing and watched closely. There was no sense risking brain surgery if the tumor was having no ill effects on my overall health. We continued MRI's of the brain and cervical spine to monitor the size of the tumor and to look for MS lesions. In the meantime, I was trying to plan for all possible contingencies through my Blue Cross/Blue Shield nurse.
My health suddenly worsened and I landed in the hospital four times within two weeks. I could barely walk across a room. I could barely breath when the temperature rose above 70 degrees. I kept losing consciousness. I was sicker and weaker than I had ever been. Everything hurt. I felt like I was suddenly a frail 90 year old man.
A new doctor entered my life at this point and she immediately recognized something in me and in my medical records... her sister had been struggling with an incurable, rare illness called Systemic Mastocytosis and she recognized the same in me. Now I was being worked up for another terrible illness and this illness was even worse than all the other potential illnesses because not only was this illness also an incurable one but it is very difficult to control at any stage, especially as it progresses. Progression of this new incurable illness leads to some terrible, terrible and often equally incurable and fatal secondary illnesses. Although it was good news to have some answers, this really was not particularly good news.
This new doctor started me on a myriad of medications to try to control some of my symptoms. There are no medications which fight the illness itself but there are some medications which can alleviate some of the symptoms. These new medications, some extremely, insanely and criminally expensive, seemed to be helping to minimally stabilize my health within a few short months. She also added an Oncologist to my team of doctors and, over the next few months, I endured a long list of oncology-related tests.
My brain tumor was still the primary and urgent concern but we also continued testing for MS and continued in our attempts to effectively treat my Systemic Mastocytosis symptoms. It was difficult to manage, but I personally made it a point to keep all my doctors updated on all testing and findings. Just keeping all my medical appointments straight and arranging transportation to and from all these appointments was a massive undertaking but this was also a paperwork nightmare in the interest of keeping all my specialists up-to-date and in the loop. Somehow, I managed to keep this communication between my specialists effective and fluid.
Then, one day something spectacular happened... my latest MRI showed no brain tumor... NO brain tumor!
My team of endocrinologists were so excited when they saw this MRI report that they called me immediately. The lead endocrinologist called me on the telephone with three doctors conference-linked to me at my home. They were ecstatic! I had never heard them so lively and enthusiastic! They asked if my oncologist had prescribed chemo-therapy as a trial for my Systemic Mastocytosis and maybe that shrunk my brain tumor? I told them no. They asked about possible radiation therapy for my Systemic Mastocytosis? No, none. They asked if my docs had started any sort of intensive, experimental therapy for MS or the Systemic Mastocytosis? No, nothing. They asked if I had added any homeopathic-type therapeutic remedies in the hope of some sort of miraculous cure? No. These doctors were amazed, excited, enthusiastic and kept telling me that they had never seen a tumor disappear without any treatment whatsoever!
I then explained that perhaps it was partially due to my attitude. The usual course of grief was not a player in my case because I already had to accept the loss of my old life due to my extensive spinal injuries years earlier which caused an end to my career, my physical activities, my marriage, and losing my home. I was fortunate in that I didn't need to experience all the steps of the grieving process again and especially not any denial at all when told I had a brain tumor. I went on to explain that I had accepted the fact that I had this tumor the moment I read that MRI report. It was right there, in black and white, in my hands, right in front of my face. Only an ignorant fool would push himself into denial after seeing it in black and white and already experiencing all I had experienced up to this point. Later, I even saw the MRI imaging. I saw this tumor. I knew I had a tumor. There was no denial... there was no stress due to struggling with the loss of my life as I knew it because I had already worked through all of that with recent experiences.
If anything, this new finding provided some relief that they may have found a reason for my debilitating health problems... so, in my mind, there was nothing but acceptance. I continued with my life. I laughed. I continued my daily physical therapy for my extensive spinal injuries. I kept looking forward and planning. I laughed. I immersed myself in the arts. I walked daily. I laughed. I rode my bike on the few 'good' days. I saw friends. I laughed. I lived life. Did I mention I laughed everyday?
Do I think these positive influences in my life caused my brain tumor to just disappear? I don't know but I do know that if I had needlessly stressed, constantly worried and pointlessly struggled with denial and the grieving process again, I would have made my situation worse not better.
It was clear to me that these specialists were amazed by the disappearance of this brain tumor and this was not something which happened often.
In the few years since that time, thoughts of this brain tumor have been pushed far into the recesses of my mind. I rarely am reminded of those dark days of living with a brain tumor... a time when most of my acquaintances were medical professionals and no matter which hospital I entered, I would be enthusiastically greeted by the info desk people and any medical professionals I passed along the way. At that stage of my treatment, hospitals were like a second home but it is so distant in my memory that it seems like a few lifetimes ago.
I've had skin cancer numerous times, once requiring major facial surgery leaving me with a long, thin scar down one side of my face. I struggle with Systemic Mastocytosis daily, deadly anaphylaxis weekly, and I definitely struggle with my spinal injuries every moment of every day. The brain tumor, the possible slow development of MS and the recurring cancer we keep cutting out of my body... Honestly, I rarely think about it. I can't think about it. It is not forgotten, however. These problems are just slowly simmering on a back burner in the deep, dark recesses of my mind far removed from my daily life so I can effectively live my life, enjoy life, and be true to myself.
Last night, while watching an episode of a television sitcom, a main character shockingly announced to her friends that she has a pituitary tumor in the center of her brain. Suddenly, my own experiences with this same type of tumor flooded to the forefront of my mind in a flash and it took my breath away. I felt a flood of emotions. I vividly remembered everything about this nightmarish experience... the thoughts, the feelings, the symptoms, the struggles and finding a new path in life. I vividly remembered my amazing but now deceased neurologist thoughtfully and understandingly answering all my questions on that fateful, dark day. What caused this flood of repressed memories? A sitcom, of all things!
This also reminded me that nobody 'beats' an incurable illness. It may disappear for a while... it may stagnate for a while... they may cut all they can see at the time out of you... but, until there is a cure, nobody can honestly and truly say they 'beat' it.
I will always wonder when and if this tumor will come back. I will always wonder when and if cancer will come back as it has over and over already. In the meantime, I try to push those thoughts to the far recesses of my mind and enjoy all the good moments, good days and my life while I can. I also know I must accept the fact that I am not 'cured' of an incurable illness. Even after all these years of lousy, unstable, miserable health, on those very rare days when I happen to feel 'halfway decent' and have some newfound energy, I do actually briefly wonder if I might have somehow been miraculously cured overnight. This is because I don't dwell on all those things I have pushed to the back of my mind and I then manage to enjoy the rare 'good' days.
I feel that if I set my mind to erroneously thinking I am somehow "cured" of an incurable illness, then I will be exponentially devastated if and when it recurs. Why in the world would I set myself up for that sort of failure and pain? I'd rather accept the truth and enjoy my remission and break from actively dealing with the illness.
Why would I say I 'beat' an incurable illness when I know that fate will probably then step in and slap me in the face with reality by slamming me with a new bout of said illness? I'm no fool... why tempt fate?
In reality, though, we really have no way of knowing if we 'beat' any incurable illness so I truly hate it when someone claims to have beaten some incurable illness. Do they have some magic crystal ball that I am unaware of which shows a healthy future clearly indicating that the incurable illness never comes back with a vengeance? That really is a silly and childish notion. All we may know for sure is that we have no signs of it in our last tests and imaging.
Enjoy the good days and, just like as is with a healthy person, enjoy life while you can. There are no promises about tomorrow...
How do you 'beat' an incurable illness? Simple... find a cure. Until that time, there is no 'beating it'. In the meantime, live your life as honestly as you can and as best as your health will allow.
My primary illness, Systemic Mastocytosis, is in the forefront most days. My spinal injuries are in the forefront at all times because these injuries affect everything I want to do, everything I attempt to do and the pain never goes away. Sometimes, however, something happens or I see something to remind me of the things which I do purposefully push to the back of my mind and would prefer to forget.
I suppose this idea of pushing things to the back of one's mind is a way of coping. I purposely try to let go of all the things I cannot control. I don't want to needlessly worry about these things because, hey, I really can't do a damn thing about them so I must just 'let them go' whenever feasible. As a result, I push these things to the back of my mind... they sort of just simmer there, on hold, because I know I will need to deal with them again at some point.
Last night, a sitcom reminded me of one of these health issues which is always just simmering on that back burner in the almost-forgotten recesses of my mind. The show also instantly reminded me of the reality and seriousness of this issue as well as the fragility of life.. even the fragility of life of a "healthy" person.
Early in my diagnostic stage (2001-2005), I had a large team of specialists trying to find some answers for my myriad of debilitating symptoms. It wasn't until my symptoms worsened enough to land me in the hospital numerous times that one of these doctors was finally able to fit most of the pieces of this crazy puzzle together.
My symptoms seemed to be indicating that I was developing Multiple Sclerosis so I was regularly seeing a neurologist who specializes in MS. Many of my symptoms involved neurological problems which were, for the most part, triggered by exposure to warm environments. These symptoms were transient in time and space but a few problems were consistent more often than not.
I struggled with hand tremors, inability to move my legs, difficulty speaking, dizziness. I was falling down a lot, I had numbness, I had tingling, and I had vision problems. I had incontinence at times. These symptoms would come and go but were quite severe and oftentimes lasted a week or two at a time.
I was at one hospital or another weekly just to see one of my many specialists so they could run a few new tests as well as recurring tests. Some tests were very invasive, some were passive and quite easy. One of the recurring passive tests was an MRI of my brain and cervical spine to keep an eye on MS-type lesions. Then a week or so later after each of these recurring MRI's, I would see my MS specialist to go over the results and again do another full examination.
Typically, when I visited my neurologist after one of these MRI's, he would just quickly summarize the latest MRI findings in his own words. One day, however, things went a little bit differently...
On this particular day, my doc handed me a copy of the MRI report so I could follow along as he reviewed each part. I'm a pretty fast reader and was already on page two while my doc was still explaining the first part of findings on page one. My doc just paused and watched me... he had already known me well enough to know that I like to do a quick skim of the results first. He knew I liked to ask questions. Unfortunately, I was stuck on a paragraph on page two which described an incidental finding... although they were not looking for it, they found a brain tumor.
I pointed down at the paragraph in the report in my hand as I asked, "What is this about an incidental finding?" My doc calmly said, "Yes... we need to discuss that..."
At this point, my doc knew that any discussion about MS-type lesions would be lost on me. My mind was reeling and I had a million questions in a big jumble in my head. "What type of specialist must I add to my team of doctors?" "How soon can I get in to see this new specialist?" "What do we do for this type of tumor?" "Is it malignant?" "How do we determine if it is malignant?" "Do I still need to be worked up for MS by you?" "Is this tumor the source of all my problems?" "What do we do now?"
I have to give my doc credit... he was exceptionally patient, calm and understanding. Even then I was keenly aware of his usual thoughtfulness and understanding. This particular doctor was always a great doctor. He clearly listened to his patients and always patiently answered those questions but a few short years later I learned that perhaps one of the reasons my doc was so patient and understanding with me on this particular fateful day was because he, too, had a tumor and was quite sick. Unbeknownst to either of us at the time, he would soon succumb to cancer. For now, however, he was sitting next to me... calm... patient... understanding... and answering all my questions as I could formulate them.
He referred me to a team of endocrinologists. My tumor was in the dead-center of the brain on my pituitary gland. He explained that he felt this tumor probably had no bearing on most of my symptoms but could be affecting my vision, dizziness and tingling/numbness on the top of my head. He felt it would be best to be worked up by a team of endocrinologists and still return to him for continued testing for MS. Hmmm... I never gave it much thought and had always assumed it would be only one illness causing my problems but now I'm being told I have a brain tumor and that I would need to continue to be worked up for MS too... oh joy.
The following year or so was a blur. My MS specialist-neurologist advised me to ensure my affairs are in order before my health deteriorates further. My team of endocrinologists were testing and testing and testing. Blue Cross/Blue Shield assigned a nurse to me to act as an advisor and healthcare case manager. My health was so poor and unstable at this point in my life that at one visit to my endocrinologists, I lost consciousness and collapsed in the waiting room and awoke to being completely surrounded by visibly shaken doctors. There was a roomful of doctors around me and they were visibly shaken! My team of doctors felt this new development probably was not related to any of my current findings.... so what now? Does this mean a third issue plus my extensive spinal injuries?
The team of endocrinologists found no clear signs that the tumor was affecting my overall health so, for the time being, we just waited, continued regular testing and watched closely. There was no sense risking brain surgery if the tumor was having no ill effects on my overall health. We continued MRI's of the brain and cervical spine to monitor the size of the tumor and to look for MS lesions. In the meantime, I was trying to plan for all possible contingencies through my Blue Cross/Blue Shield nurse.
My health suddenly worsened and I landed in the hospital four times within two weeks. I could barely walk across a room. I could barely breath when the temperature rose above 70 degrees. I kept losing consciousness. I was sicker and weaker than I had ever been. Everything hurt. I felt like I was suddenly a frail 90 year old man.
A new doctor entered my life at this point and she immediately recognized something in me and in my medical records... her sister had been struggling with an incurable, rare illness called Systemic Mastocytosis and she recognized the same in me. Now I was being worked up for another terrible illness and this illness was even worse than all the other potential illnesses because not only was this illness also an incurable one but it is very difficult to control at any stage, especially as it progresses. Progression of this new incurable illness leads to some terrible, terrible and often equally incurable and fatal secondary illnesses. Although it was good news to have some answers, this really was not particularly good news.
This new doctor started me on a myriad of medications to try to control some of my symptoms. There are no medications which fight the illness itself but there are some medications which can alleviate some of the symptoms. These new medications, some extremely, insanely and criminally expensive, seemed to be helping to minimally stabilize my health within a few short months. She also added an Oncologist to my team of doctors and, over the next few months, I endured a long list of oncology-related tests.
My brain tumor was still the primary and urgent concern but we also continued testing for MS and continued in our attempts to effectively treat my Systemic Mastocytosis symptoms. It was difficult to manage, but I personally made it a point to keep all my doctors updated on all testing and findings. Just keeping all my medical appointments straight and arranging transportation to and from all these appointments was a massive undertaking but this was also a paperwork nightmare in the interest of keeping all my specialists up-to-date and in the loop. Somehow, I managed to keep this communication between my specialists effective and fluid.
Then, one day something spectacular happened... my latest MRI showed no brain tumor... NO brain tumor!
My team of endocrinologists were so excited when they saw this MRI report that they called me immediately. The lead endocrinologist called me on the telephone with three doctors conference-linked to me at my home. They were ecstatic! I had never heard them so lively and enthusiastic! They asked if my oncologist had prescribed chemo-therapy as a trial for my Systemic Mastocytosis and maybe that shrunk my brain tumor? I told them no. They asked about possible radiation therapy for my Systemic Mastocytosis? No, none. They asked if my docs had started any sort of intensive, experimental therapy for MS or the Systemic Mastocytosis? No, nothing. They asked if I had added any homeopathic-type therapeutic remedies in the hope of some sort of miraculous cure? No. These doctors were amazed, excited, enthusiastic and kept telling me that they had never seen a tumor disappear without any treatment whatsoever!
I then explained that perhaps it was partially due to my attitude. The usual course of grief was not a player in my case because I already had to accept the loss of my old life due to my extensive spinal injuries years earlier which caused an end to my career, my physical activities, my marriage, and losing my home. I was fortunate in that I didn't need to experience all the steps of the grieving process again and especially not any denial at all when told I had a brain tumor. I went on to explain that I had accepted the fact that I had this tumor the moment I read that MRI report. It was right there, in black and white, in my hands, right in front of my face. Only an ignorant fool would push himself into denial after seeing it in black and white and already experiencing all I had experienced up to this point. Later, I even saw the MRI imaging. I saw this tumor. I knew I had a tumor. There was no denial... there was no stress due to struggling with the loss of my life as I knew it because I had already worked through all of that with recent experiences.
If anything, this new finding provided some relief that they may have found a reason for my debilitating health problems... so, in my mind, there was nothing but acceptance. I continued with my life. I laughed. I continued my daily physical therapy for my extensive spinal injuries. I kept looking forward and planning. I laughed. I immersed myself in the arts. I walked daily. I laughed. I rode my bike on the few 'good' days. I saw friends. I laughed. I lived life. Did I mention I laughed everyday?
Do I think these positive influences in my life caused my brain tumor to just disappear? I don't know but I do know that if I had needlessly stressed, constantly worried and pointlessly struggled with denial and the grieving process again, I would have made my situation worse not better.
It was clear to me that these specialists were amazed by the disappearance of this brain tumor and this was not something which happened often.
In the few years since that time, thoughts of this brain tumor have been pushed far into the recesses of my mind. I rarely am reminded of those dark days of living with a brain tumor... a time when most of my acquaintances were medical professionals and no matter which hospital I entered, I would be enthusiastically greeted by the info desk people and any medical professionals I passed along the way. At that stage of my treatment, hospitals were like a second home but it is so distant in my memory that it seems like a few lifetimes ago.
I've had skin cancer numerous times, once requiring major facial surgery leaving me with a long, thin scar down one side of my face. I struggle with Systemic Mastocytosis daily, deadly anaphylaxis weekly, and I definitely struggle with my spinal injuries every moment of every day. The brain tumor, the possible slow development of MS and the recurring cancer we keep cutting out of my body... Honestly, I rarely think about it. I can't think about it. It is not forgotten, however. These problems are just slowly simmering on a back burner in the deep, dark recesses of my mind far removed from my daily life so I can effectively live my life, enjoy life, and be true to myself.
Last night, while watching an episode of a television sitcom, a main character shockingly announced to her friends that she has a pituitary tumor in the center of her brain. Suddenly, my own experiences with this same type of tumor flooded to the forefront of my mind in a flash and it took my breath away. I felt a flood of emotions. I vividly remembered everything about this nightmarish experience... the thoughts, the feelings, the symptoms, the struggles and finding a new path in life. I vividly remembered my amazing but now deceased neurologist thoughtfully and understandingly answering all my questions on that fateful, dark day. What caused this flood of repressed memories? A sitcom, of all things!
This also reminded me that nobody 'beats' an incurable illness. It may disappear for a while... it may stagnate for a while... they may cut all they can see at the time out of you... but, until there is a cure, nobody can honestly and truly say they 'beat' it.
I will always wonder when and if this tumor will come back. I will always wonder when and if cancer will come back as it has over and over already. In the meantime, I try to push those thoughts to the far recesses of my mind and enjoy all the good moments, good days and my life while I can. I also know I must accept the fact that I am not 'cured' of an incurable illness. Even after all these years of lousy, unstable, miserable health, on those very rare days when I happen to feel 'halfway decent' and have some newfound energy, I do actually briefly wonder if I might have somehow been miraculously cured overnight. This is because I don't dwell on all those things I have pushed to the back of my mind and I then manage to enjoy the rare 'good' days.
I feel that if I set my mind to erroneously thinking I am somehow "cured" of an incurable illness, then I will be exponentially devastated if and when it recurs. Why in the world would I set myself up for that sort of failure and pain? I'd rather accept the truth and enjoy my remission and break from actively dealing with the illness.
Why would I say I 'beat' an incurable illness when I know that fate will probably then step in and slap me in the face with reality by slamming me with a new bout of said illness? I'm no fool... why tempt fate?
In reality, though, we really have no way of knowing if we 'beat' any incurable illness so I truly hate it when someone claims to have beaten some incurable illness. Do they have some magic crystal ball that I am unaware of which shows a healthy future clearly indicating that the incurable illness never comes back with a vengeance? That really is a silly and childish notion. All we may know for sure is that we have no signs of it in our last tests and imaging.
Enjoy the good days and, just like as is with a healthy person, enjoy life while you can. There are no promises about tomorrow...
How do you 'beat' an incurable illness? Simple... find a cure. Until that time, there is no 'beating it'. In the meantime, live your life as honestly as you can and as best as your health will allow.
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