Test time

The anxiety hasn’t kicked in yet, but I am thinking about it.  Next week, at pretty much exactly this time, the Pet/CT will be done and the results will have been sent to my oncologist.  (Funny, the bi-monthly blood tests don’t elicit the smallest measure of concern – even though cancer, mine anyway, probably shows it’s symptoms in the blood before the PET/CT picks it up.)  

The anxiety is still a few days away.  And from what I understand, it never, NEVER goes away completely.  My ex-sister-in-law had thyroid cancer 38 years ago.  It was treated successfully, there was never a reoccurrence.  And yet, every year when she goes to her doctor for the thyroid checkup, she thinks “What if?…”

It would be an act of total denial of the whole experience, if we didn’t get at least a little nervous.  From the time we hear “You’ve got…”, we know beyond a shadow of a doubt that life really does end.  Death isn’t theoretical anymore, it flashed it’s presence in real time – and we can avoid the issue all we want, but we can’t deny we saw it.

We lived to see it, is the point.  It’s still far enough down the road that we can push it to the back burner of our lives.  I’ve done that.  So on the almost-fifth-anniversary of my stage 4 diagnosis, I can’t help smile as I write this, because I have never felt better in my life.

And I’m old, to boot.  Go figure.

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