Yesterday, my Dad went for his first post-cancer/post-surgery CT scan. He will have to have these every few months probably for the rest of his life (he’s almost 67).
The scan came back “pseudo” clean. His colon is clear, although he has a teensy spot on his lung. A good friend of mine who has battled cancer a few times says the teeny lung spots are so common that people who’ve NEVER been diagnosed have them.
Long story short, this is good news. The Dr wasn’t concerned about the little spot. I figure, him being an oncologist, he knows of what he speaks.
Approximately 95 days have passed since my Mom called to tell me my Dad was going in for an appendix removal. A surgery that would end up taking a couple extra hours because of the tumors that popped up.
I was still driving my old car (RIP ’03 Eclipse). I got pulled over in Westfield (seriously, the morning I scrambled home to my Mom to assist her). I was 20 lbs heavier. I was very confused. I let people in who didn’t deserve to ever get close to me.
Now, I feel like I’ve come full circle. Healthier lifestyle, healthier choices, pursuing my big dreams, surrounded by positive people. It’s quite astonishing what a difference 3ish months can make.
People ask if I’m truly happy. Yes. I am.
God, I need to go dancing sometime soon. Sigh, the strange things I miss…