More days slippping away from me while I sleep or watch tv.  I find I can't concentrate very well lately on anything.  Call it chemo fog or whatever.  It's the weekend and I wish I could enjoy the autumn weather.  Some of my family have checked in with me the last few days.  My sister calls to tell me of her recent vacation to Las Vegas, and that for her 20th wedding anniversary a few weeks ago, she and her husband decided to renew their vows at the Elvis chapel.  Totally cheesy but fun.   My dad calls me too and has a tour bus vacation planned himself later this month.  A 8 day whirlwind stopping for every buffet between Nebr and Wash DC.  Again sounds like a lot of fun.  I love to hear about normal activities like that, but it's really hard because it makes me realize how far I am from participating in normal activities for a while.  It's depressing, but I'm determined that I will soon enough get to go on vacation myself. 

I still have that hope and dream available to me.  Not so for one of my fellow cancer friends.  I've sort of made up this imaginary club.  A cancer club.  There's me and two others who I've met during my cancer journey.  We've all about the same age and diagnosed with cancer over the last 2 1/2 years.  We're all at different points in our journey, doing pill form chemo for maintainence, or recurrences doing radiation and various IV chemo.   No, there aren't meetings or anything like that.  Matter of fact the other 2 members to this club don't even know about it or even each other.  It's just me keeping track of them and how they're doing compared with me and how I'm doing.  But because we all share in going through this journey, I call it a club.  Right, a club that nobody wants to join and the current members want to desperately get out.  But still for me, the three of us form this circle, and I share with them and them with me, and I love both dearly, my fellow cancer clubbers. 

Well one of them is not doing well.  Not at all.  She's now at the point where the doctors can't do any more other than make her comfortable.  She's at home with her husband and family and very little time left.  I feel bad for wanting vacation and other things knowing that I at least have the hope of doing that yet.  I suppose this is just another part of the cancer journey, one that I may have to face myself one day.  Learning to accept and let go and let God.  I've always joked with her that she's been a hero and inspiration to me, able to do more during her chemo and fight against cancer than I can imagine. and such faith to get her through it.   She's continues to inspire me now and will even after she's no longer a member of my little club.