It's been a bit of time since I wrote. I realized that I never wrote about the results. Everything is okay! The chest x-ray only showed some bronchial thickening, which is probably from past respiratory infections. And the bloodwork numbers were good!!! So, I live to face another day, and I'll use that time to Relay like crazy until a cure is found! Praying for all those not so fortunate...

So I went for an x-ray today. It was a chest x-ray ordered by my family doctor, because I've had a cough for months. It didn't bother me that much at first, but then I started pondering how colon cancer sometimes goes to the lungs, and I started wondering.

I put a tentative post on one of the CRC boards I'm part of, and had a couple of replies from people who said they had a cough when they had lung mets. So the x-ray seemed like a pretty good idea.

So I headed over to registration at the "short stay" section of our hospital. Short stay? How about NO stay! I've been in the "big house" too many times, and I don't care to go again. I tried to be casual as I waited for the receptionist to plug all the info in on the computer. Inside, I wasn't casual at all.

Being anywhere in that building makes me flash back to the day nearly 4 years ago when my life took an ugly turn.I may walk in confident as can be, but by the time I'm standing at that counter, I feel like a little girl waiting for my mommy to come find me.

Today that registration counter made me sad in another way, too. Most times when I am there, one of the volunteers is a lovely lady from my church. She wasn't there today, because tomorrow her journey to healing from breast cancer begins...Praying for you, my dear!

When I finally got called back for the x-ray, that process went very quickly, but it was not without trauma. Why, oh why do they put you in a huge room and tell you to take off your bra? Granted, I got to put my t-shirt back on, but couldn't they let me change in a bathroom or behind a curtain? My "girls" don't like hanging out where anybody could pop the door open at any second.

And there's the matter of taking the x-rays. It's a very easy procedure, especially compared to some of the tests I've had to do. But ever since I had all the tests to discover the cancer, I've felt very vulnerable when I've had to do any test requiring me to lift my arms above my head. It makes me feel so vulnerable and helpless.

At any rate, I seem to have survived the experience. Now to wait for results...

Ouch

So it's another night, another non-sleeping night because of pain. I sometimes wonder why I got off so "easily" with my cancer, while others suffer so much. And then are times like this, when the chronic pain that has plagued me since my colon resection works up to a fever pitch. That's when I remember that easy is a relative term. Yes, I'll take the pain over a recurrence of the cancer. Yes, I got away without having to do chemo or radiation. I know, I know. But could my stomach ever stop hurting?? Please????

A New Relay season

It's been awhile since I've posted! Too busy living life, I guess! The sad part is that while I haven't been writing, I've still heard about several friends being diagnosed with cancer. When does it stop? I wish it would be today!

We just finished up the Relay For Life year, and now we're gearing up for a new one. This will be a very poignant year, because we will be remembering our dear friend and fellow committee member, Gail. She passed away July 13, 2 months to the day from being a survivor speaker at her final Relay. Gail loved pink flamingoes, and we'll likely have a lot of those around in her memory. I remember her sweet smile all the time, but I know that when we get ready for the survivor lap in May, she will be uppermost in my thoughts.

Paying It Forward

When I was diagnosed with colon cancer, my dear doctor came in my hospital room and gently asked me how I was feeling about the news. Without even thinking, my answer was, "I hope I can use this experience to help others." And since that day almost 4 years ago, that's what I have tried to do.

Whenever someone at church is diagnosed with cancer, I try to contact them and offer support, sharing resources I have. And people in the community often tell me of new cancer patients because of my work with Relay For Life, and I try to contact those people, too, and let them know I'm there for them. I don't mind the task at all, but what does hurt is the fact that I am called on so often. Still way too many people hearing the words, "You have cancer."

I wish I could wave a magic wand and have cancer be erased from the body of each scared, worried patient. Because that is an impossible dream, I will do what I can and help where I can. 

Wear it with pride!

The weather was cool enough this evening, that I told Bill to drive home from choir without me, so I could walk. The exercise is always good for me! I was wearing a Relay For Life shirt, this year's survivor shirt. When I first became a cancer survivor, I felt a little conspicuous wearing the shirts. Now that I'm almost 4 years out, I feel so proud of my status. I stared that BEAST down and told it to take a hike! So whether my shirt has the word "Survivor" on the back in bold letters, "Happy Birthday is a Victory Song," or "There's no such thing as too many birthdays," I wear it proudly. I hope to inspire others to realize that a cancer diagnosis does NOT have to be a death sentence. It can, instead, be a journey that shows a person what she's made of and leads to a keen appreciation of just how sweet life is.

Cancer is killing me (not like you think)

No, I've not had bad news from any doctors. Not about myself, anyway. It seems, though, that every day I discover that someone else near and dear to me has heard those three ugly words, "You have cancer." Or someone gets the sad word that their battle with the beast has gone into round two or three...or four. I'd be happy for a day that I don't hear the word cancer, but I never get one. It's insidious.

I find myself resenting the times when those unaware use cancer phraseology in another context. For instance, "It's like a cancer eating away at my insides." No, it's not. Have you ever HAD cancer? Or the author who discusses a problem "metastisizing." Hmm...not quite the way someone with colon cancer discovers that there are now cancerous cells in her liver or his lungs.

Mostly I find myself not sleeping. That boogeyman called cancer comes calling in the dark of the night. I lie there feeling grateful for an early diagnosis and seeming cure, yet fearful it isn't so. And I lie there listing off those I care about and want God to watch over. And I make mental note of those who have gone to their glory, yet are so sadly missed here on earth.

So, yeah, cancer is killing. Bit by bit, it seems to hurt me a little more. I want it to go away and never come back, but cancer is not a good listener. It seems to not hear my cries. One day. One day...