Friday, September 5, 2008
Tanya Writes About The CT Scan
It was hard, the other night, at CT Scan...the very place my hero collapsed last April. Seeing him lying there those months ago, well, I can't publicly put down what I thought had happened.
Just five days later, remission was announced. But that was when he was the sickest from the chemo, in TC terms: 3 X BEP. He couldn't even rejoice.
During our trip to Lake Tahoe in May, he and I managed to finally discuss those dark days, in front of the fireplace with late spring snow falling outside. In those days, I still woke up in the night, shaking, cold, even though we knew remission was afoot.
So when another CT Scan had to be done this week, the tremors started, the demons surged. The bad dreams came again. That ugly thing still manages to terrorize us.
All I can say is, when Dr. Schwartz called just now, assuring us the cancer is gone and my hero is in remission: Praise God. The last couple days have been lyrics from Tim McGraw's Live Like You Were Dying...waiting for the x-rays.
My hero confessed he can't help a little man-crush on this wonderful oncologist. That's okay. I've loved him ever since the dreadful day of diagnosis last February when he held me in a great big bear-hug and promised to watch my hero like a hawk. "We'll get this fixed," he promised.
He even gave me his cell phone number. (Have I ever used it? I confess yes. Once.)
Tomorrow we're participating in a Livestrong Fundraiser in the gorgeous Santa Ynez Valley of central California. My hero and our beautiful daughter are going to ride a half-metric, about 31 miles. I, well, I'm no athlete. He got me a lovely new bike recently (the Comfort Model, read: Old Lady) but tomorrow, I'll hobble by foot as long as I can.
Our son, DIL and the baby can't make it. But as always, they're with us in our hearts. We'll all be together on Sunday to launch our fantasy football league. I'm Wild Thang...and right now, I gotta go finish decorating my tee-shirt for the team jersey competition and get the guestroom ready for our babygirl to spend the night.
Thank you, Jesus, for the blessings that never stop. And please forgive those moments of unbelief that still manage to snarl my mind.