I went to see my consultant today, after having my 'end of term' scan on Tuesday, expecting him to tell me that i'd have to wait a few more days until we had the results.
How wrong was I? There he was with a screen full of grainy images and a report commenting on the state of my insides. The grainy images didn't mean anything to me even when he tried to point out that that grey thing was that and that white thing was that. I think they make it up as they go along..
But the long and the short of it is that the 8mm tumour which was on a lymph node in my stomach is gone. Just to clarify. That means the cancer is gone!
Do a little dance.
You can't even see the lymph node anymore either apparently. So what he was trying to show me god only knows.
And 8mm.. what is that about? Everyone else seems to have tumours the size of melons and I get 8mm. Not even a grape. Well, actually, maybe the size of the grapes that used to grow at mum and dad's by the garage. Let's just say there was never a MacDonald vintage.
So. I'm now in 'recovery'. I listed all the funny feelings i'd been having (leaving out the one I experienced when a very handsome, well dressed man sat at the table next to me in Village East on Tuesday) and he told me they were all to be expected. I may never get full feeling back in the tips of my fingers and am probably going to have to wear gloves a lot more often in Winter because the nerves in my hands are a little damaged from the chemo. Other than that everything else should sort itself out over the next few months.
I'm going to spend the next few days at the Paralympics marvelling at people who have overcome so much more than me and then i'll start getting restless again i'm sure.
Ooooh ooh, and for those wondering about the hair situation. Still bald as a coot, as i'm sure Jim Robinson once said in neighbours, but I do have bum fluff on my top lip and chin. It's like being a teenager all over again.
Watch this space for the next exciting update on my hair growth...
How wrong was I? There he was with a screen full of grainy images and a report commenting on the state of my insides. The grainy images didn't mean anything to me even when he tried to point out that that grey thing was that and that white thing was that. I think they make it up as they go along..
But the long and the short of it is that the 8mm tumour which was on a lymph node in my stomach is gone. Just to clarify. That means the cancer is gone!
Do a little dance.
You can't even see the lymph node anymore either apparently. So what he was trying to show me god only knows.
And 8mm.. what is that about? Everyone else seems to have tumours the size of melons and I get 8mm. Not even a grape. Well, actually, maybe the size of the grapes that used to grow at mum and dad's by the garage. Let's just say there was never a MacDonald vintage.
So. I'm now in 'recovery'. I listed all the funny feelings i'd been having (leaving out the one I experienced when a very handsome, well dressed man sat at the table next to me in Village East on Tuesday) and he told me they were all to be expected. I may never get full feeling back in the tips of my fingers and am probably going to have to wear gloves a lot more often in Winter because the nerves in my hands are a little damaged from the chemo. Other than that everything else should sort itself out over the next few months.
I'm going to spend the next few days at the Paralympics marvelling at people who have overcome so much more than me and then i'll start getting restless again i'm sure.
Ooooh ooh, and for those wondering about the hair situation. Still bald as a coot, as i'm sure Jim Robinson once said in neighbours, but I do have bum fluff on my top lip and chin. It's like being a teenager all over again.
Watch this space for the next exciting update on my hair growth...
Go you x
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