It's over, and this fat lady is singing ever so loudly.
The doctor called today with the test results. After a summer full of biopsies (2), surgeries (2), recovery, low-iodine diet, radiation, lab work, medications, body scans, and more, the cancer has not spread, and I am officially cancer-free.
I almost feel like I made it up that the doctor said the cancer had most likely spread, and I would probably have to have more procedures done. That all sounds so impossible and silly now. But I did not make it up. I know for a fact that is what I heard.
God is so good to me.
I had already decided that he is good no matter what. Even if the results weren't what I wanted (which I was prepared for) it would not have changed his goodness.
I know there were so many praying. People I didn't even know would write me and tell me they were praying for me. Whole churches and camps were praying for me. You can never imagine what all of you have meant to me. Thanks for the cards, calls, comments, and prayers. People would ask me what they could do for me. All I ever wanted was prayer. I could never have done this on my own. A thousand times never.
Getting the news kind of felt a little anti-climactic, like it was just another day. It's not just another day though; It is the first day of the rest of my life. I told Van I felt like we needed to shoot off fireworks or something. We laughed, knowing that we would have to find a way to celebrate without fireworks.
We went for a long, brisk walk after dark. It felt so good. When we got home, we all went to go get ice cream and a movie.
As we were driving home, we happened to look over, and much to our surprise, there was a fireworks show. Right down the street!! We knew they were for us. I guess we got our fireworks after all.
My Aunt Mary kept telling me not to forget to breathe. Now I know what she meant. I have been holding my breath for three months without realizing it. I suppose I went into autopilot mode and did what I had to do to keep my head above the water. I never read up on what things meant. If I had read what it really could mean, I would have been a basket case. I didn't even ask the doctors too many questions. I just took what they said and tried to believe the best about it. I didn't want to think too deeply about the possibilities. I know there are some who want to know all the ins and outs and ups and downs of their diagnosis, treatment, and prognosis, but not me. Call it denial. Call it laziness. Call it survival.
Whatever you call it, it's over now. I can breathe again.