The difficult part is living in this no-man’s-land of waiting. It’s like the disease is in control and we aren’t. We wait with bated breath to see what the monster will do next. It’s shrinking: Hope! But is it lying in wait to pounce again, or can it be killed? Our stomachs are made to reject foreign stuff through vomiting. I wish we could also reject cancer the same way. Today I am hopeful that the monster is dying, NOT the Golden Child!