Just FYI, I had my latest PET scan yesterday. I am awaiting the results. They will show if that spot on my liver from last time was just a fluke, or if it's something to concern us.
I'm not going to lie. Waiting the last two months for a definitive answer has started to make me feel a little crazy. It's hard to process feelings and move on when you don't even know your status. After all, there's a lot at stake here. It's not like waiting to see if your strep test comes back positive-- this is cancer, for heaven's sake. There are times when I feel invincible, ready to take on the world and kick some cancer ass, should it be necessary. Other times, usually when I'm alone on the couch at night, or in the shower, terror sets in, and I feel like my abdomen suddenly floods with ice water and I'm sinking fast in a dark ocean. (Sounds dramatic, but that's the actual image that I see sometimes. It's so bleak and dark and helpless and hopeless.)
Added to the stress of waiting was the fact that it was the holiday season, when emotions run high anyway. Seeing the kids react with glee, reuniting with beloved family members, participating in cherished traditions-- it all felt a bit more real this year, because I realized that for me, it could all be fleeting.
I have had plenty of time to mull over my paths ahead. If it's cancer, I've already imagined all the possibilities: surgery? radiation? chemo? (God, please no. Not that again.) If I'm all clear, bliss. Glee. Freedom. Life! It's hard to steel yourself for battle AND simultaneously keep hope alive in your heart that you may soon be celebrating and exhaling with relief.
But I'll know soon. And of course, I'll let you know here.
By the way, I forgot to say--Happy New Year, everyone!