A Reprieve

I had scans following two cycles of chemo and it seems that the medicine is working its magic. The cancer has been knocked back in my lungs and my heart, the new stuff that showed up in my abdomen in July is gone, and sclerotic bone mets have appeared, which indicates that they were hiding out but are now dying. (I guess I also had some broken ribs?!? Who knew.) Much to my surprise, even my brain MRI showed improvement, with mets and edema showing reduction. Whew!

Cancer is a thief that steals by inches and by miles. Sometimes stealing pennies, sometimes pearls.

For the past few months it’s has stolen my breath. It’s startling to look back on how frail I was just a few weeks ago. Jason had to push me in a wheelchair for my first chemo, since I was too weak and short of breath to get there under my own steam. During that time, I couldn’t walk more than a few steps.

And now, thanks to chemo, I can walk again. I can yawn again. I can hold my breath. I can (mostly) take a deep breath.

I still have a very long way to go, but I can feel my lungs slowly getting stronger.

My balance issues have remained, meaning it wasn’t the trial drug causing those. They are likely the result of brain surgery and several bouts of radiation. Which also means there may not be a ton of improvement there, even with effective cancer treatment. Wobbliness may just be part of me now.

Cancer has stolen my gracefulness. It has stolen my handwriting. It took my naïveté years ago.

But chemo has given me back my breath, so I willingly continue my cantankerous partnership with this prickly friend.

I can go for a walk again. I can cook a meal again. I can take my kids to the park again.

I am slowly clawing my way back.