Last Sunday was National Cancer Survivor Day.
On Friday I had a follow up appointment with my oncologist to get the results of my recent PET scan from end of May. I was sure it would be clear, because the tech's had told me about the wonderful Pho the had gone out to get during my scan. I assume that meant there was nothing interesting to look at...
My doctor was unusually candid during this appointment, he told me he had a day of bad news, and my appointment was to be quite refreshing! We went over the usual updates, I filled him in on every creak and crook I have felt over the last 5 months and he did a visual review of my tumor/surgery area. All standard stuff for this appointment.
And then he began to read me my scan results...
Lots of underlined words could be seen through the translucent paper making my blood pressure start to rise as he started in.....my throat always seems to choke up at this point in the appointment, and I find myself slightly holding my breath, hanging on his every word.
Sitting here with the same paper in my hands now
I see that he had underlined every time the report said "NO".
"NO" metastatic signs
He then let me know that he was, again, so confident in my recovery status that he was moving me to the 6 month PET scan schedule. Another milestone. AMAZING!
He actually said the radiologist were so bored with my non-cancer status, they were reporting on my acne scars for something to write about. That's pretty funny when you had stage 3, aggressive, rare and 'not sure how to cure' cancer a year ago........(I also understand that I might be the ONLY one who finds any of this laughable, and I am totally ok with that. ;)
Back in the doctors office, where time seems to stand still, the air is close and makes my head spin as time seems to be both completely stopped and moving way too fast at the same time. I sit in a side chair a little dumbfounded about the expanded schedule....
Quizically, I said what now?
And his reply was, "Go live your life."
And then, I cried.
No. I wept.
Tears of Joy. Release. Relief.
For the next 3 days off and on when I thought of those words, I wept.
I don't want to be just a survivor, I want to be a contributor.