I've been spending the last six months since my last blog entry living my life, well, normally as possible. I find myself thinking about my cancer less often, but it's always there somewhere. I'm three and one-half years from my initial diagnosis in May 2012. Still beating the odds.
In the meantime, I've gone kayaking and hiking (8 miles!) in California. I've gone camping twice with Allen and Boyce's boy scout troop. I've gotten together with some old girlfriends (old, as in I've known them forever) for a mountain getaway. I even snuck in a trip during the summer back to visit friends in France.
Allen and Boyce have reached a milestone of starting high school, and I find myself getting very emotional whenever I think about that because there was a time when I didn't think I'd make it to see this happen. They're both in the high school band, Allen on percussion and Boyce on trumpet. I have to fight back tears every time they take the field.
I think one of the gifts this cancer journey has given me is getting me more in touch with my emotions. I feel the good stuff even more intensely.
Yesterday, I celebrated my birthday by getting my six-month PET scan. I love my new oncologist. I already got a phone call from her about the results. I'M CLEAR OF MALIGNANCIES! This makes my sixth clear PET scan since finishing chemo.
However, there is some thickening of scar tissue around one of my lung resections, so my oncologist wants me to see my pulmonary surgeon just to be sure that's all that's going on. I have an appointment on November 30th to see what he thinks.
So, it's a clear scan with a slight 'but'. Be thinking of me as I live my 'normal' life.
Wednesday, November 18, 2015
Thursday, May 28, 2015
Let it go
When did I lose my perfect balance on a bike? When did I start worrying about being knocked off the trail by some hot shot eight year-old on a 10-speed, flailing arms and legs as I smack into a moss-covered live oak? Your canopy is nice, tree, but your close proximity to the trail is just a little too distressing now.
Of course, I can blame it on the one-speed rental bike. Poor quality, indeed. If I had my old 20-speed (and my helmet), I'd be zipping along the trail with nary a concern about the looming Tour de France wanna bes and the flora that beckons me into their not-so-loving arms.
My first day out earlier this week, it took only a half mile before my shoulders were knotted with tension and my hands became numb from squeezing the handlebars too fiercely. Yeah, that was fun. Downright recreational.
Then, there was my walk down to the beach at dusk (twilight) last night. It's a short block away from the condo. I used to do it in less than five minutes, while directing my cat-herd-like twins out of traffic, pulling a beach cart with enough supplies to last through to the next day. Last night, the thirty yards or so of deep beach sand felt like cement. I am beyond doing this anymore, I think. I want a beach-front place. (Ha ha ha.)
But what's that? The twilight sand felt cool and comforting on my feet. Instead of slogging, I stopped and wiggled my sandal clad toes in it. This is one of those pharmaceutical-free Xanax-like moments. Feel it. Breathe it. Let it go, Beth. The water isn't going to disappear before you get there. This is your time.
This morning, I took another ride before the heat got going. Loosen your shoulders, Beth. Grip the handlebars lightly. Yeah! Three miles without a tightened muscle or numb hand. However, I did have a close encounter with a septuagenarian on a three-wheel bike. I recognized the dyspeptic look on her face. I smiled and said good morning and wondered if she thought I was some hot shot chick, shooting my bike down the trail with no concern for her safety. Let it go, lady. Let it go.
Of course, I can blame it on the one-speed rental bike. Poor quality, indeed. If I had my old 20-speed (and my helmet), I'd be zipping along the trail with nary a concern about the looming Tour de France wanna bes and the flora that beckons me into their not-so-loving arms.
My first day out earlier this week, it took only a half mile before my shoulders were knotted with tension and my hands became numb from squeezing the handlebars too fiercely. Yeah, that was fun. Downright recreational.
Then, there was my walk down to the beach at dusk (twilight) last night. It's a short block away from the condo. I used to do it in less than five minutes, while directing my cat-herd-like twins out of traffic, pulling a beach cart with enough supplies to last through to the next day. Last night, the thirty yards or so of deep beach sand felt like cement. I am beyond doing this anymore, I think. I want a beach-front place. (Ha ha ha.)
But what's that? The twilight sand felt cool and comforting on my feet. Instead of slogging, I stopped and wiggled my sandal clad toes in it. This is one of those pharmaceutical-free Xanax-like moments. Feel it. Breathe it. Let it go, Beth. The water isn't going to disappear before you get there. This is your time.
This morning, I took another ride before the heat got going. Loosen your shoulders, Beth. Grip the handlebars lightly. Yeah! Three miles without a tightened muscle or numb hand. However, I did have a close encounter with a septuagenarian on a three-wheel bike. I recognized the dyspeptic look on her face. I smiled and said good morning and wondered if she thought I was some hot shot chick, shooting my bike down the trail with no concern for her safety. Let it go, lady. Let it go.
Thursday, April 23, 2015
I'm still here!
Yes, I've been a delinquent blogger, but perhaps I can redeem myself by sharing some happy news.
My PET scan from yesterday was clear! That's two years now of clear scans. Whew!
Gotta go. Time to plan a family vacation...and celebrate a little.
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