TBH Fear of death isn't really the issue for me (well, maybe a little, but I've done high-dose ketamine treatments twice). Right now it's the fear of living - o

TBH Fear of death isn't really the issue for me (well, maybe a little, but I've done high-dose ketamine treatments twice). Right now it's the fear of living - of doing this same thing for the next 10, 15, 20 years. Chemo every 3 weeks, all the quarterly CT scans and the waiting for the results that will tell me if the current regimen is working or not (current one is "working" in that nothing's growing...but nothing's shrinking either). All the MRIs which will tell me if anything has metastasized in my brain, and waiting patiently for -those- results (we caught one last fall and radiated it out). The never quite feeling like I have enough energy to do "normal" things like mow the lawn. Being the dad who has to take a nap every day while my kids slowly grow up. All the worry about what happens when this chemo medication stops working (they all do after some time), will I have enough warning that it's not working or will things double in size before they can find out. All the people who get you alone and then it's "but seriously, how are -YOU-?" The well meaning people who say "well attitude is half the battle!" (hint - it's not). The overall feeling of complete helplessness, like there's nothing I can do that's going to influence how this goes, when it decides it's going to go sideways. Knowing that they'll never do surgery on me because the numbers say in the time I'd need to recuperate, something somewhere else inside of me that didn't show up on a scan would have time to grow. Does any of that feel like a battle? Like I'm courageously fighting? (I apologize, this isn't exactly what you asked about, and I'm not writing an angry response here to anything you wrote, I promise).