24 Hours of Anxiety

Are over. I got the results of yesterday’s scan, and once again, it was beautiful. Fluids have actually diminished a bit and any lumps and bumps seen in the past have not changed. I am fine. Because I am in a clinical trial, I get a scan every 12 weeks, and I feel so fortunate. I see a doctor or nurse every two weeks for a check up as well as a meetup with my clinical trial nurse. The downside to this is that cancer is never far from my consciousness but I do believe the vigilance far outweighs anything else. In fact, if I didn’t have this close monitoring I may be worrying and thinking about it more. I think that’s the way with ovarian cancer, in particular. It’s unfortunately the rare woman who doesn’t have a recurrence. It’s more when than if. Though my hope is that the immunotherapy trial I am on will at the very least keep it at bay for a while, or maybe forever. As usual, I took a nap when I got home from my infusion. The Benadryl really knocks me out, and I’m thankful no more steroids to keep me awake all night. I’m hanging out with two sleeping kitties this afternoon. This evening Jerry and our neighbors will go out for a celebratory dinner. Jerry, Ray, Irene and I go out to dinner every Tuesday. It started during chemo because I always felt great the day of chemo, while the rest of the week was iffy. We usually go to a neighborhood restaurant. Tonight, though, there is a special wine dinner at Black Olive, a wonderful Greek restaurant that specializes in fish and seafood. My guess is most of the wines will be white, which is usually not our favorite, but this restaurant is so special that I’m sure we will even like the whites they choose. It’s hard to express just how grateful I am for my life. I know things can change at any time, but right now, I am—- how can I put this—- looking forward to a period of introspection coupled with joy. Perhaps an odd combination, but the last year has caused me to take stock of my life and my impact. I have more of a drive to do good, and more of an impetus to be happy. How that will manifest itself is to be seen. I know it will mean more time at the shelter, and more time traveling. But I think there are other changes on the horizon, but it will take exploration before I know what they are. I have never been one for New Years resolutions, but considering my surgery will have its anniversary on January 4, 2019 might just be the year I make a few.