About Me

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I'm a glass-half-full type of girl. I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes, grave's disease and celiac disease in 2010 and life-altering allergies in 2013. I believe having a positive attitude is the only way to live with dis-ease. I also believe that life doesn't have to be PERFECT for it to be WONDERFUL. Dis-ease is expensive, so I live a frugal yet healthy lifestyle. This is just my blog; my day-to-day story.

Thursday, October 3, 2013

"You have Stage 4, metastatic cancer."

This is the news delivered to my family two weeks ago today. I got the call at work, right after lunch. A call from my mom so hysterical she can't speak. I don't know what's wrong. She is just screaming, and eventually inhales enough air to say "HE'S GOT CANCER...EVERYWHERE." She's in a public place when she gets the news and I hear a woman in the background asking her "Ma'am, are you okay?" The answer to that, is no, we are not okay.

I feel faint and my heart starts to beat weird. Physically sick to my stomach. I can't go back to my desk. I don't know where to go. I run to the bathroom and stay. And stay. And then drive home.

Diagnosis: Stage 4 Renal Cell Carcinoma of the right kidney that has metastasized to his other kidney, both lungs, brain and trachea. The PET scan today will tell us if it has spread to his bones. But it won't matter either way. There's no treatment available. "Palliative treatment only." Prognosis: 2 months. He's only 63 years old.

I make a call to the Mayo Clinic; a plea for help. A second opinion. Hope. Anything. Their review yields the same outcome.

He had no symptoms, no warning. No signs of trouble until two days before the diagnosis. A healthy person with no health issues. We never suspected that kind of news.

A family in mourning. Grief strucken. Disbelief. Tears to the point of dehydration headaches. No sleep. Nightmares. Praying for a miracle, but would settle for more time. Lots of I Love Yous. Sleeping pills and anti-anxiety medication prescriptions. Funeral arrangements.

Please pray for my family.


  1. Praying for you and your family, Nikki. As much as I hate diabetes and hope never to have heart disease, my biggest fear is cancer.

  2. I'm so sorry to hear such devastating news Nikki. You and your family will be in my prayers.

  3. I've been hearing that word way too often in the past week. I'm so sorry and I'm hoping for a miracle.

  4. I am so so sorry! My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family! I can't even imagine, I too am hoping for a miracle for him.

  5. Oh Nikki... my heart hurts for you. You have done so much for me, I wish I could do something for you right now. I'm hoping for the absolute best possible outcome for your family.

  6. I am praying hard for you and your family. I am so sorry to hear of this, keeping you in my thoughts.

  7. So sorry to hear of this news Nikki. You and your family will be in my thoughts.

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  9. I cannot begin to express my sympathy. I really enjoy your blog and I am very sad to hear of your news. You are in my thoughts.