The Deets ~

(what the younger Storvs call details):

Easy, peasy, just ONE CyberKnife treatment, with a follow-up brain MRI in two months. Other regularly scheduled checks in the meantime and moderate tiredness to wade through for awhile. Might lose a small bit of hair so holding off on that partial foil 😉.

It makes me laugh to recall where the mind (or my radiated one anyway) can go while immobilized. They even band my feet together. “What if this radiosurgery nicks some of my memory? What if I don’t recognize my drivers in the waiting room? Maybe I should pretend to not recognize them. Stop it. How about a zombie walk wearing my new mask? Uh, that might not sit well with those in the waiting room. Ok, five minutes down. Time for a Psalm. Can’t remember a line. Try again. Do NOT open your eyes. Slow breaths. Praying for some kindred spirits in their searching, healing, or worry. Praying some more. My eyelid itches. Hoping to grab coffee with my chauffeur friends but tight mask + no product = sad hair day. But Astoria is right next door!

Tech mentions the halfway point. Fist pump if I could move. Imagining the fans along a marathon course cheering on anyone and everyone. Isn’t that what we all should do more often?

As always, so humbled and thankful for the many doing that for me, for us. Friends and family, I promise TO remember your many kindnesses and to skip any dorky mask shenanigans.

Easter bonnet

As I waited for this morning’s appointment to get the results from Friday’s routine MRI, I was considering how well a clear scan reflects forgiveness. That walking-on-air feeling when the report says ‘no new metastatic disease’ mirrors how I feel when grace is given. Freedom. Respite. Often hard to grasp, but when you give or receive it, few things can change the atmosphere like that. My feelings about it are still true, but those musings were gone the second the oncologist set the report on the desk upside down. Suddenly, you just know. The MRI revealed a new nodule, small, but apparently new growth of metastatic cancer. “Early changes of recurrent tumor.” Hence, a new Easter bonnet. So CyberKnife is again on our calendar. Sigh.

Of course, this IS exactly why I have frequent scans, to find this dastardly stuff while still small. . . so we are grateful for an early catch. And technology such as CyberKnife blows my mind. Scratch that, I mean it is truly amazing. By Cinco de Mayo, I plan to have radiated it away and maybe today’s snow will be gone by then too. Might have to make May margarita month.