Relief. Joy. Gratitude.

I bet you thought I forgot about the promise I made for a fresh post tonight, didn't you? It's ok to admit it. I almost forgot myself! 

I've been waiting for all the final results to come back before sharing about my last round of post-treatment tests, but I still haven't gotten a call back. I've learned to assume that no callbacks are a good thing for cancer Survivors, so I'm going to just flow with it.

I went through the most tests in the least amount time this go round at The West Clinic. It was wonderful to have so little time in the waiting room! A little bizarre, too.

My 9 month follow up I had tubes and tubes of blood drawn from my Port-a-cath, a chest X-ray, a CT scan and a pelvic exam. It wasn't as bad as it sounds.

My Port worked beautifully once again. Yay!!

I was hoping to get to lay down for the chest X-ray, but I didn't. I just stood there, turned, and turned again. I even got an initial 'all ok'. That's never ever happened. Bizarre, but in a good way. It certainly put me at ease. Just having to have a chest X-ray made me a little anxious. I understand that my oncologist is covering all the bases since I am a two time Survivor, though.

Then I was off to the CT scan waiting area. There were 2 ladies already sitting there. They were talking and giggling a bit. The kind of giggling you do when you're really nervous or scared but fighting through it. I thought they were sisters, but they were mother and daughter. The mother had just been diagnosed, and this was her first CT scan. We didn't sit together very long at all, but I did my best to share some Love and Light with her. The scan made her sick and my heart went out to her. Cancer sucks.

I'm very thankful that they have upgraded the chalky CT scan barium drink to one that tastes like plain water. There's less volume and it's much easier to drink.

During the scan I actually felt a little light headed and nauseous towards the end. That's never happened to me in my long history of CT scans. It passed pretty quickly. That short experience scared me a bit, and made me wonder if feeling a little sick in the scan meant something less than good. Intellectually, I couldn't see how but Survivors don't just think intellectually during tests.

On my way upstairs to my oncologist's office (gyn Survivors have a whole special floor), I stopped in the bathroom to collect myself. I let myself cry for a couple minutes because I needed the stress release. Just being at the West Clinic is emotional for me. All I smell in there is chemo drugs and it's so icky. Then I took a few deep breaths, gave myself a quick self Reiki treatment, and thought about all my blessings.

I figured I would be sitting in the waiting room for at least an hour, but nope. Three minutes later I was in the exam room. My mom was running a bit late, but thanks to text messaging and 45 mile per hour roads between her office and the clinic she slid into the room minutes before the oncologist. Is she good or what? Just another demonstration of her awesomeness!!

Thankfully, my nurse and oncologist noticed that I've lost 17 official pounds since the end of chemo! It was nice to get some recognition and kudos from my medical team. Yay!!

The oncologist went through my questions with me. I'm still not sure when I'll have my Port removed. My onc didn't make a big deal out of that at all, so I won't either. It doesn't hurt, and it's not like anyone but me is rubbing or otherwise feeling it. Once in awhile one of my Peeps elbow me in that one tiny spot, but that's about it. I did find out that removing it won't mess up the chest muscles I've been working so hard on building and strengthening. I was incredibly relieved to hear that good news. I was prepared to keep the Port forever if it meant cutting into my new muscles!!

Then it was drum roll time. My onc sat down at the computer in the exam room to look at my test results. This is the part where I was literally holding my breath, and I bet Mom was too.



NO EVIDENCE OF CANCER!! Whoohoooo!!

However, I do have a small incisional hernia from all the scar tissue next to my belly button. And I have one really huge gallstones and a few smaller ones. Neither issue is causing me any harm right now,  so we're just going to watch and be aware. My onc did encourage me to buy a compression belt to wear while I'm lifting weights. So now I look even cuter when I lift. I'm extra thankful that I workout in the privacy of my own bedroom.

Relief. Joy. Gratitude. Freedom to move forward with my beautiful life as a (now) 10 month Survivor. 

Whaddya know?

Apparently this blog doesn't write itself... Hmpf. I wish I could just think a post and have it magically appear. On second thought, that may terrify everyone. Nevermind.

No, I'm not quitting or giving up this blog. Life has been beautifully busy, but short on hours.

Here are some upcoming topics (yes, soon):

A convention that changed my life.... My 9 month post chemo battery of tests and scans report...  My wonderful quality time with all 5 of Peeps this summer... Strength training pride... My first encounter with Cross Fit... Weight loss update... How essential oils are improving my life...

That should get the ball rolling again. Fresh post coming up on Wednesday evening. Pinky swear.