Have not Had

You may have noticed that I didn't start the title of this post with a day count, like the others. We're in new territory here and I'm no longer counting the days. In fact, counting days feels somewhat ominous doesn't it? I'm feeling good, my strength is back. I'm eating well, but can't seem to crack a certain weight ceiling - although I'm definitely not the skeleton I was during treatments. Jess and I have been going to the gym every day and I definitely feel stronger. We're back in our wonderful, woodland, mountain home in West Virginia and we've been doing a lot of house projects (remaking Tadpole Cottage - the guest cottage, repairing and repainting the deck, painting in the house, reframing windows in the screened-in porch, installing new recessed lighting in the kitchen and living room, yard work, etc, etc... it's weird to be back here now, able to do things, and think back to last year, when I lived curled up on the couch, or in the bathroom, or lying in bed, wondering if I had one week or one month.

We're in a much better place, Jess and I. However, I'd be lying if I said that I didn't have a shadow of fear always lurking in the back of my head. It's not that I had cancer....I have cancer. It's still there, in my body. What if it starts to come back? What if it spreads? When I get a headache, or if I have a new pain in my back or my stomach is upset, I begin to think, what if....? What if this is cancer in my body? I know that this is something that I will have to live with, that we will have to live with, and that the possibility of renewed activity is very real.

Which is why I'm kinda going out of my mind with the gap in my treatment cycle. My last treatment was at the end of June, right before we went to Scotland. I am scheduled to see my oncologist in about a week and a half (back to Shenandoah Oncology, in Virginia), and I'll quickly get started on the new routine - which I expect will be immunotherapy every X amount of weeks and occasional scans - no more chemotherapy, but I'm really worried about the time that has lapsed. Did we have it on the ropes and now it's rebuilding? Is two months really that long in the grand scheme of things? I have no idea. Why has it taken so long? Because there's a process of transitioning care. I had to transition into a new VA and first meet with the general practitioner, and then get referred to oncology, and then get approved for Community Care (which allows me to go to a closer place than the VA which is 90 miles away)...all of that takes time and appointments scheduled and paperwork, etc, etc. But it's in the works. It's frustrating for both of us. I'm half surprised Jess hasn't stormed the offices yet and demanded I be seen today, lol.

I do keep a positive outlook, and I'm keeping busy and active (gym, house projects, walks, etc). I'm writing and creating and trying to live life as full and present and productive as I can every day. I know that I am fortunate to be where I am right now. The doctor's words last month still echo in my head: "You know, not many people would have survived what you survived." Survived. Survivor. I'm not sure if considering myself a "survivor" is right though...that makes it sound like the danger, the threat, is gone. Over. But I know it's not. Maybe it'll never come back. Maybe my mutant powers have pushed it back through the hellish rift from whence it came. But maybe it will...and I'll have to face it again. I don't know. All I know is that I plan on continuing to live each day, as much as I can, with a full appreciation for the time I've been given. When I think about it: Stage IV, spread to my abdomen, multiple rounds of chemo and radiation, not a candidate for surgery (which I am SO glad did not happen), I can't believe that I am here.

But I AM here and I have not/will not/cannot forget the fact that I somehow crawled through it and emerged and that there is a bomb inside me, still hard-wired. I'll post an update after I meet with my doctor. In the meantime, I'm going out to do some yard work. ;)

• j