Thanks for your kind and wise words, Eagle Heart.

I know it's a beast.

I also find that in the 25 or so years it's been since my first husband's second diagnosis, my brain has become foggy on some of the detail of his (Bill's) cancer's return.

One thing I will never forget however, is that when the lymphoma first came back, his oncologist had talked to him about the possibility of going to the Mayo Clinic for some sort of new treatment. The doctor seemed to hold out very high hopes for that particular protocol.

But then tests were done, and Bill learned that his cancer had progressed too far, and he wasn't eligible for the procedure that was being performed.

He'd allowed himself to believe he would be selected for this treatment and he was so crushed when he learned it wouldn't happen. I think being with him when he dealt with receiving that news might go down in my mind as one of the worst moments of my life.

Honestly, I don't think that I have nerve it must take to be an oncologist. Dealing day in and day out with the fight against death by cancer. The highs when one achieves success would be wonderful. But I don't think I could handle the repeated lows that must come when having to deliver bad/crushing news to patients and their families...

Eagle Heart, I'll pray that you never have to experience a remission. You're right: 3% is a wonderfully low number. Blessings!