Hello. I celebrated entering my 206th trimester with a visit to the oncology clinic this morning. It was eventful in it’s uneventfulness. A few items of note:
Every NP is pregnant. OK, not all of them, but the ones that are important to my story are, and they’re all gonna push out their new humans at roughly the same time in a few months. I will miss them at my next scan. I didn’t really walk into the clinic expecting to be touched by the obvious joy of new life getting 3D printed in a place that is generally a gathering place for crowds on their way out. Being greeted by the folks that kept me alive the last couple years and seeing they’re busy creating entire new human beings while they do it got me all kinds of choked up and inspired. Considering the dizzying heights of anxiety I was mentally peering down from as I walked in, it really put the awe in awesome.
My oncologist no longer works at the hospital. It’s not my fault. I am just so good at surviving cancer it destroys jobs. Obviously that is not the real reason, but I won’t share that here as it’s not my place to say. I have a new doctor assigned to me and he is fine even though he’s a man and honestly everyone there really has their shit together and I am not actively in treatment so it’s not a scary change.
There are not enough radiologists. Everything everywhere is getting shittier and that’s just one part of it. The oncology folks were making calls last night trying to get my image review kicked up the chain and it was still not completely finalized in time, but professionals did put eyeballs on screens and have assured me there are no new spots. My bloodwork from last week is clean, though the schedule change messed up the ctDNA testing so that was done today and will be verified with another happy zero in a couple weeks (I hope). Basically I am in better shape than when this all started, and I got my prescription to ride bikes and have fun renewed, along with a side of rock climbing. I am grateful for the chance.
For my birthday in October I will get to go from 3 months between scans, to 6 months. I am not out of the woods, I will always be at least in a sort of brushy undergrowth, but I am past the deepest scariest part where the ham comes from.
That means I can get the port-cath implant removed, and I have a referral to do so and I can hardly wait to stop worrying about bumping it into things or abrading it or fucking it up with a backpack or a rope or turning over too wildly in my sleep.
I am the luckiest person you know. I am surrounded by the kindest, smartest, most thoughtful humans and supported by a crowd of heroes. I don’t know what else to say.
Happy Wednesday. Hug your friends. Get a colonoscopy.