You. Are. Cured.

After my year of pitching a tent at the cancer center, I went in for a follow-up and the doctor declared "you are cured!" Then I woke up from my dream and realized that never happened. I know, it should! I wish it would! But, it hasn't.

Instead, I'm floating in this weird limbo where the major things feel done, but appointments still dot my calendar. I have follow-ups and follow-ups to the follow-ups. Medications still have to be refilled. I have pains here and there. Hair growth is slow. Too much to declare myself bald and not enough to feel comfortable going out without a hat.

My medical oncologist sent me to X-ray for some ongoing pain in my ankle. The result was to move me on to an MRI. The nurse called the other day and said "well, it is not cancer but you do have some orthopaedic issues." Now, I'm being referred to an orthopaedic specialist for these unknown "issues." Wait, back the truck up! What did she mean by saying "it's not cancer!" I never thought it was! Was that a possibility? I am not going to go through life worrying that every little pain is cancer. But, sometimes there is a little evil minion in the far recesses of my brain that wants to place that thought in my head. I usually squash him. But, sometimes I wonder. If my body could "make" cancer cells once, what keeps it from doing it again? BOOM! Sorry, I had to take a rubber mallet to that evil minion. It made a bit of a mess, but I think it will all work out.