I can’t remember how it happened, but tonight I accidentally clicked back to a previous post of mine, the “Control” post. I don’t reread what I post here. That post was over 6 months old. Control (or loss of control) was one of my biggest cancer hurdles…and so I reread my post. I noticed that post had recieved comments, so I reread the comments.

I truly appreciate comments, and one of the comments was written by another woman with a rare cancer, gall bladder cancer, who also had a blog. This was her comment to my post.

Carolyn – I do not have cancer of the appendix, although I know of two people who do, so I had known that it’s a rare cancer. I also have a rare cancer, gallbladder cancer, and I found your website through Sean’s Sharing our Days site. I like how he links blogs to different illnesses, and expands our network of connection. I do face the questions about control and having a terminal diagnosis, and how to live my life that’s left. I am 8 months post diagnosis, had a period of being asymptomatic, and now have a recurence in my abdomen where my gallbladder was. As a result, I’ve started chemo, and entered the world of worrying about side effects. These questions are so big, and living life one day at a time really is a hard thing. I, too, have a blog, and I’m always hoping that other folks who have my rare cancer will find it. My site is Life Changing Cancer at www.dahlborg.blogspot.com. I appreciate what you are doing in telling your story and providing resources and links for others with your diagnosis.

I decided to check Lynne’s blog tonight to see how she was doing, I hadn’t read it in awhile.

Lynne Dahlborg died July 15th of this year.

We connected only for a moment but shared a lot. I cried when I read the last entries to her blog. Then I read her obiturary, and it was probably the best obituary I’ve ever read. It was truly a tribute to the person she was, it was a celebration of her life. She was a person I would have liked to have known. Here is an exerpt from her obitary:

“On her 59th birthday last year, Lynne Dahlborg went tubing with her children down the rocky course of the Virgin River near Utah’s Zion National Park. Doctors had told her a few weeks earlier that she had a rare terminal cancer and removed her gallbladder.

Writing about that river ride in a blog, Ms. Dahlborg said she found herself exhausted and terrified, with no exit. Her daughter loved the three-hour adventure, but Ms. Dahlborg was in agony until she stopped fighting the flow, she wrote.

“Like life, the river kept going, and my surrender was part of living and healing and knowing that I could survive even the sharpest rocks and deepest drops,” Ms. Dahlborg wrote, using the river as a metaphor for her cancer and strong faith that God would heal her spirit.

Her complete obituary is at:


Lynne, I’m glad the sharp rocks and deep drops are behind you now. And I look forward to when I will get to really meet you.