Today I can only muster up just enough courage to breathe in, breathe out. Today I only have the confidence to take one more step and live one more day at a time, even in this mess. Maybe that’s all I need.
I’ve been trying to prepare myself for the bad news I was anticipating at this week’s MRI. Here’s a few things I jotted down, just in case…
I’m so tired of living scan to scan, treatment to treatment. When we found ourselves back in the MRI waiting room at Mayo Clinic on Wednesday, I turned to Alicia and said “Should we just get the hell out of here?
Last year, NPR asked readers to submit their own version of George Ella Lyon’s Where I’m From poem. I wanted to contribute, but I never finished my take in time. It’s done now, and I think it belongs here.
I had an MRI scan on my brain on June 17th. Everything looked great! No changes since the last scan. I finally mustered up the courage to ask Dr. R what I could expect as far as recurrence and lifespan. It’s something I’ve been avoiding asking the doctors for a few reasons.
Last week Alicia and I packed our hand sanitizer and face masks and headed to Rochester.
Great news today at the doctor’s office.
As it usually goes in my life, I got myself all worked up for nothing.
Three MRI scans since my last post and I’m still doing great. No sign of any new cancer growth. The summer has been flying by and we’ve been keeping very busy. Things are beginning to feel normal again
Back at Mayo Clinic today for a follow up MRI scan. This was the first scan I’ve had since beginning the clinical trial chemotherapy treatments.