Farrah's Story

As I watched Farrah's Story, it was hard to hold back the tears. I admire her strength and courage in fighting her cancer, and appreciate what it took to share the intimate details of her battles. My father died 11 years ago, almost to the day, from his own war with cancer. Three years of his life was spent on that horrible roller coaster of ups and downs with tests results, good days and bad days, mental highs and lows...

If you haven't had a loved one go through this, Farrah's Story is reality at it's worst. No sugar coating. You see the pain, the nausea, the ugliness of this horrible disease, like you are right there with her. It brought back memories for me of the first time I had to wheel my dad into a hospital in a wheel chair. It is a strange feeling. My dad, the strong carpenter, the guy who could fix anything, could not fix this. He did everything he was told to do--surgery, radiation, chemo, then even more chemo. And in this unfair world, despite all of the efforts, all of the hope, all of the advancements in medicine so far, nothing could be done.

Just a day after he died, an envelope arrived in the mail. It was from Cancer Treatment Centers of America. I'm sure you have seen their television commercials with testimonials from cancer survivors who contacted them after all else failed and got results. Dad never told anyone he wrote to them for information. I felt pleased that he never really gave up, even in those last, very difficult days.

Farrah is still alive. They say she is sedated, but it was hoped she would be lucid enough to see the Television show last night. She should be proud of her work. I wish her peace.