I just got to the hotel bar to type up this post, and the band is playing "Girl from Ipanema." It's like my cancer experience song. No magic xylophone this time, though.
As mentioned previously, I met with Dr. Fournier this afternoon.
Number one and most important, absolutely no sign of cancer. Clean. I take nothing for granted, though, as those of us "in the know" understand that PMP could reappear at any time, which would mean a tiny bit was hiding somewhere in my gut. But I'm not going to invite it back, you know? There are no guarantees in life, hell, I could get hit by a bus tomorrow. But for now and the foreseeable future, this kicks ass. Talk about feeling like you were treading water for a while... I feel my feet touching solid ground again.
My bloodwork was great, tumor markers and everything, all cool. Normal. It took a while for that to sink in, believe me. But I feel so damn good now. What a strange feeling. Don't fight it, Dan. The only bad thing in my belly right now is the Chick-fil-A I had for lunch. Ish. Back to eating healthy right now.
I did stop to think about my other friends with this disease, and those I know who have other forms of cancer, and I wish them so much good will and strength. I can't help but feel some guilt for feeling good right now, knowing the battles that others face. I've met so many good and strong people during this adventure, including the patients, and in particular their loved ones who stand by them and support them. I respect them all. They provided so much help and emotional support when I was totally lost and trying to figure this all out, I can never thank them enough. I hope to help others find their way, too. And to my friends who follow this blog and/or who have been calling, texting, and emailing to check in on me, thank you so much.
One complication--I have blood clots in both lungs (albeit the one in the right lung is very tiny). The severe pain I was having in my right calf a few weeks ago may have been related to the blood clots. Treatable, though. I have to give myself injections of a blood thinning agent, into my belly, for 10 days. Piece of cake. After that, 3 months of cumadin (another blood thinning drug) and weekly blood tests. Then back to Houston in July for follow up tests (for both cancer and blood clots). I don't want to end up with one of those filters installed next to my heart, which is what they'll do if the blood clots don't clear up. But I'll worry about that when/if I have to....
I have to buy an electric razor, though. Seriously. They said no shaving with a blade, as I'll bleed very easily if cut. I've always been a blade man, this will be the suckiest part. I don't give a damn right now about giving myself injections into my belly, but I hate electric razors.
Here's the cool mini hazardous waste container they gave me for my syringes. I'm going to use an empty plastic bottle instead, and keep this on my desk at work. You know, for memos and stuff.
Thank you, universe.