It's getting to be that time again

Another six months have nearly passed.  Almost time for my next PET scan.  I'm scheduled for July 29th, but my oncologist will be on vacation so who knows when I'll get the results.  Breathe deeply, Beth.

I'm getting better at just taking each day as it comes, but my first thoughts every morning when I wake up still drift toward my cancer.

But, there's life to be lived.  There are my boys to be cared for.  Vacations to be planned.  Birthdays to be celebrated (including my 50th! later this year).  Sometimes, I have to dig deep to put those omnipresent thoughts of doom into the background and find the good stuff about life to focus on.  It's always worth the effort.

I'll be in touch when there's news to share.

Women of a certain age

Lately, it seems I've been inundated with self-help articles about things a woman my age should no longer do.  Well, since I'm certainly too young to have uterine cancer, I've decided I've earned some extension on these supposed no-no's for women of a certain age.  For example:

Marie Claire magazine tells me women over 40 should not wear dark lipstick.  I'm wearing bright red today.

I just bought a pair of white Converse tennis shoes...for the first time since middle school.

With the right top, it's still okay for me to wear leggings.

I kinda like Bruno Mars.

As soon as I am able, I'm growing my hair long again.

But, I still don't do bows or graphic t-shirts, and no amount of bucking convention will ever change that.

I have bangs again!

About six weeks ago, I tried to blow out the hair that should be my bangs (fringe, for you Brits), and it looked a bit too Audrey Hepburn pixie-ish for my liking.

But, yesterday, I tried again and was able to achieve wispy, long bangs at last.  Yeah, me!

Last year, I finished chemo on February 19.  So, for those of you keeping score at home, it takes about a year to grow bangs from scratch. 

By the way, the first picture isn't of me.

There's just no off-ramp to an easy detour

I've been awake since 4:00 a.m. for no particularly good reason.  In recent weeks, normal sleep has been a fickle lover.

Oh, I can attribute my frustrations to any number of annoying pharmaceutical side effects, mood disorders, or just plain old challenges that any mid-lifer with middle school boys could have.  But, I'm not going to list those...except, I do wonder how long before young teen boys will eventually take an interest in their personal hygiene.  I'm tired of inspecting teeth for signs of at least minimal brushing and sniffing armpits before I let them exit the house in the morning for the bus stop.

However, the main thing is, I'm tired of waking up mad.

I've never particularly been a morning person.  I remember an old boss (a terrible old boss...don't worry...it's none of you that might be reading this) who bragged that every morning when her alarm went off at 5:00 a.m., she jumped up out of bed, excited to be facing the day!  She couldn't wait to put a load of laundry in the washer, go for a run, and report to work for yet another day full of people complaining to her about how nothing worked correctly.  She was one of those who didn't have 'weakends'.  She had 'strongends'.  Even in my naive 20's, I realized she'd drunk the Koolaid.

But, there must be a reasonable medium...somewhere between seething and Zig Ziglar mania.

I read something recently about grief that really stuck with me.  Even though the article was about grieving over the death of a loved one, I realized the principles applied to me.  My life has irrevocable changed ever since that day back in May of 2012 when my surgeon confirmed our suspicions: I have cancer.  I am grieving the loss of that pre-cancerous life.

Yes, I've had amazing successes with my treatment, and I'm so grateful for the support of so many around me who've helped in so many ways.  But, the fact of the matter is, my body has changed in ways I never realized it could, and I'm very, very sad about that.

The thing that article brought home to me is, you can't rush grief.  You have to slog through it.  There's just no off-ramp to an easy detour.  But, one day, you realize you've come a little further down the road to discovering that new life on the other side.

But, I'm impatient.  I want to be there now.

Clear PET scan!

Just a quick note to let everyone know that my latest PET scan is all clear!

I'll have another follow up with my oncologist in three months, and the next PET will likely be in another six months.

Life is good.

Anxieties and anticipations

In a couple of hours I'm off to get my long-awaited PET scan.  Wish me good juju for normal blood sugar and a heightened tolerance for claustrophobia...and ultimately, encouraging results.  The saga continues.

And soon, I promise a new picture of my new longish short hair.  Finding a good hair day in combination with the motivation to put some makeup on in order to craft the perfect selfie has been challenging.  I'll get there.

(P.S.  My spellcheck doesn't recognize juju or selfie. Hope I spelled them correctly.)

Some good news at last

My blood sugar is low enough to reschedule my PET scan!

I'm set to have it next week on Wednesday, January 22nd.  What a relief.  Now, I can sit back and simply worry about the results, like a normal cancer patient.  Hopefully, I'll be able to hear the results from my oncologist within a few days of the scan.

Still feeling punky from the Metformin, but it's slowly getting better.