Did I do anything special, like have a cake made in the shape of a mutated B-cell? No. Did I even mark the occasion mentally? No. Give it even the slightest, most cursory and casual fleeting thought? Nope, nope, soap on a rope.
I frankly forgot all about it.
And I think THAT's the most vivid illustration of how well I am doing.
My last PET in February showed that, months after completing chemotherapy and radiation, my tumor/scar tissue has shrunk even more. And perhaps it will show even less of itself on the next scan. Which, by the way, doesn't even have to be a PET. I'm doing so well, with the tumor shrinkage and the numbers in my blood work, that I warrant only a CT scan at the next check. A PET will only be done if something looks hinky on the CT. So I can EAT before my next scan, whoo hoo!
All of this is wonderful news. I am confident that, a year from now, I will be allowed to have my port removed. Because I will never need it again. I know I'm not supposed to used the mighty C-word (no, not that one...not cancer, either..."cured") for 5 clear years but, at the risk of invoking some bad juju, I really do consider myself to be cured, now and for always.
I am enjoying my life and my family and friends. I am better. Stronger. Faster. (Well, okay, maybe not faster.) I feel "new and improved" as far as my daily approach to the world in which I live and the people in it.
My hair is currently an external reflection of my internal joy at being here on the planet.
My Come to Jesus or Diety of Your Choosing Moment: Don't wait for your own mortality to smack you in the face to embrace who you are, to live your life in a way that brings you happiness, and to revel in the moment and in the relationships that nourish your heart. Strive to minimize regret's role in your life, because drastic and sometimes permanent change can come without warning.
I will certainly wave my next all-clear CT scan results all over this blog when next I sign in. Be well, be happy, be your own most fierce medical advocate.
