Recovery Week 2: SSDD

Let's put the good news up front this week. The NotChemo oncologist agreed with the radiation oncologist: He expects this treatment to do the trick and that the PET scan will show up clean.

Can I get a WOO and a HOO?!?!?!

And right now, the promise of a clean PET scan is going to have to do, because everything else is the same. And it's going to be the same for a little while longer because even though he's no longer in treatment, damage is still being done. As the radiation oncologist said, the reason you can't get a PET scan for a few months is that the radiation is still working on the cancer. Well, what occurred to us this week was that if the radiation is still working on the cancer, it's still working on the healthy tissue as well. Once the radiation has done its job, the cancer will die, and the healthy cells will start to regenerate. And that's when I expect a resurgence from my sweet baboo.

So that's what I'm clinging to. Last week, you may recall, my blog post was a little bit of a downer. But since then, I've been reminded by my friends and family—that's you guys—that I am strong. I am optimistic. I am resilient. It started with a poem sent to me by my a friend whose husband went through a very similar cancer scenario last year (and just had a totally clean PET!). It continued when a friend of mine with breast cancer went through her surgery successfully—and maintained her sense of humor throughout the ordeal. It was prolonged by your daily Facebook messages and blog comments. It spiked up when I found out I was going to be a grandma—again—and that my niece joined my nephew in getting engaged. And then it was cemented by a timely card from a dear friend saying that she believed in me.

So for anyone who is struggling this week with your own challenges—and I imagine that's most of you in one way or another—let me start your week with the poem from my friend Liz. I wish you hope, strength, encouragement and sunlight.

The Word
By Tony Hoagland

Down near the bottom
of the crossed-out list
of things you have to do today,

between “green thread”
and “broccoli” you find
that you have penciled “sunlight.”

Resting on the page, the word
is as beautiful, it touches you
as if you had a friend

and sunlight were a present
he had sent you from some place distant
as this morning—to cheer you up,

and to remind you that,
among your duties, pleasure
is a thing,

that also needs accomplishing
Do you remember?
that time and light are kinds

of love, and love
is no less practical
than a coffee grinder

or a safe spare tire?
Tomorrow you may be utterly
without a clue

but today you get a telegram,
from the heart in exile
proclaiming that the kingdom

still exists,
the king and queen alive,
still speaking to their children,

—to any one among them
who can find the time,
to sit out in the sun and listen.