It feels like just yesterday when realistically it was almost a year ago that I was looking my dad in the eye and saying
"I don't know what or why but something is wrong."I had symptoms, I was stressed, I was tired but I just didn't believe it. Now here I am leaving battle and walking into peace negotiations.
No doctor has a magic ball and can tell me conclusively what I want to hear. They can never say with certainty
"You are cancer free."
I have to now be proactive about living as healthily as I can and as consciously as I can. I have to now listen to that voice. When my gut says to me again
"I don't know why or what but something is wrong"I will bang down the doors of heaven until I figure it out and shut that voice up. I read a book a long time ago that said our gut is there for a reason. I can't remember but something about it being an evolutionary defense mechanism. Well gosh darnit, that makes sense.
So my PET scan lit up because of inflammation caused by the residual effects of radiation. The radiation takes months to leave my body. Which explains why I've been so tired and run down. I still have toxic radiation coursing through my veins. The post effects of the treatment, they don't disappear over night. On top of that, I'm a rare case/bird and therefore don't heal like the average person. Also the doses of radiation I received were extremely high. My lymph nodes are clear and that is huge! HUGE!
Basically Dr. D told me,
"You need to relax, de-stress and let your body heal. This is not going to happen over night, it will take months for you to be clean of the radiation and feel normal again."Normal? What is normal? That is seriously a term I've forgotten over the years. Relax and let my body heal, UGH this is going to be so hard for a girl who can't sit still. However whenever I tried to test this theory my body reminded me to sit down, shut up and listen. I went out with a friend on Friday for another friends birthday and through out the course of the night had two SMALL glasses of wine (ANTIOXIDANTS). With multiple glasses of water in between and a HUGE dinner. (Ps- yes those are extensions.)
"Mom, I think you should get into the right lane."
"Why honey? Is everything ok?"::As she was pulling into the right lane::
"Um No":: Open door, proceed to puke, profusely.:: The rest of the weekend sucked. It was a lot of the same thing. My sister bringing me gingerale and zofran (Anti Nausea medication). It was most likely just a stomach bug, but one night of very simple social interaction, brought me back down to real life.
"YOU ARE RECOVERING"is basically what my body was screaming at me. Or it could just be a coincidence. But still, really?
So the news from the doctor- can't be perfect. I will have check ups. All the time. My first being in January. Pet Scans, bloodwork. I'm never done this fight. Now it's just preventative and I'm ok with that, because at least I'm here to have a life to be preventive with. This in no way means I'll stop living. Not even close, not even a little bit. If anything, it means I'm just getting started.
I'm packing up my bags because I'm heading home. I'm going to have to start slow, but at least I get to start!
