In just a few hours, I’ll be heading back to the oncologist for the results of my post-radiation PET scan, chest CT, abdomen and pelvis CT, bloodwork, and the report from my radiation oncologist. We’ll finally find out whether the surgery and radiation killed the cancer cells in my body, or if they’re gearing up for another fight.
Whether BlogHer 10 will be all sweetness and celebration for me, or not.
Whether I can move on and go shopping with my friends this weekend, or not.
Whether I will get stronger and stronger as I have been the last several weeks as the radiation effects wear off, or not.
Whether I will get the chemo pill, or go to the hospital for the chemo infusions through a port in my chest every week or three.
Whether I will …
Oh, forget it. You know what I’m saying here. Big day.
I almost ended up going to cover President Obama’s speech at the National Urban League Conference tomorrow morning, squeezing it in just before my appointment, but I’ll simply be too nervous and too focused on getting there, so I passed at the last minute. Justice Stacey, TechSavvyMama, Minky, and Amanda will do a GREAT job in the blogger pool, and I’ll just tootle on down to the hospital for my appointment. (You can watch the speech online here at 8 a.m. EDT, or check their blogs later tomorrow. Very cool.)
I’m expecting very good news tomorrow (what else can I expect?), but until I hear the good news from my oncologist Herself, I admit I’ll still be a little nervous.
This week was a good one. I spent a few days up at my mom and dad’s house with the kids, helping them have a good ol’ fashioned small town summer, complete with a trip to the fair. We petted pigs, stood nottooclose to the cow wash, heard the goats complain about their pens, and watched the sheep look at us funny with those little tufts left on top of their heads. And then, Iamnotmakingthisup, we watched a goat show. The 4-H kids were showing the young goats they had raised, and the judge was calling out the results and the rationales at the end of each round like an auction caller.
The children were fascinated.
And then, they climbed on the tractors. All of them. All sixteen hundred of them, as far as I could tell, as they test-drove-in-place machine after machine as if they were making a purchase, my little city boys.
We had a lovely time.
If I were Stimey, this post would be filled with pictures (and humor).
I’m not. It’s not. I’m just a little nervous about tomorrow.