Immaculate

So, it's been awhile. 

I didn't want to make a big deal out of the last couple of weeks, at least not here or on social media, but some things have happened. 

All of them are good.

That doesn't mean it wasn't nerve wracking. 

I am 6 months into my new round of chemotherapy, (which has been a breeze for the most part, save for some occasional nausea and exhaustion) and last week it came time for my first scan since the all clear back in January. 

So much had happened in these last 6 months, again, all of it good, that I almost forgot these scans and the wait for results would ever be necessary again. 

That's stupid.

 But once I found out I was in remission, I saw nothing but "not cancer" in front of me. 

So, I went and did my most recent scan and thought nothing of it right up until the moment that the doctor walked into the room a week later to discuss results. 

I'll save the dramatics--the word the doctor used to describe my scan was "immaculate."

Pair that with the lowest blood pressure, weight and best blood counts that they have ever measured on me... Like I said, everything has been good. 

Still, in the brief moments between the doctor walking in and hearing the good news, I was reminded of a sentiment I have spoken about at length on here:

You don't "beat" cancer, you don't win...just like you don't "lose," because in my opinion it is not a fight...but that's not important at the moment.

That sentiment didn't stick around long because of the news I received, and because I am healthier and happier than I have ever been. 

Still, I kind of liked the reminder that this is something that I'll do for the rest of my life. 

For that reason (and many others), I'm lucky.

Every six months, or a year, or however long the gap becomes between the scans for me, I'll keep being given reasons to celebrate. 

And I'll keep being reminded of just how lucky I am, and how invaluable health is. 

Everything else is secondary.

My life is fucking awesome, and if you have your health, yours probably is too.

 If you don't, strap in, and fix it yourself--or put it in the hands of smart people who can do it for you. 

Stay hearty and surrounded by people who love you. Bad times don't last. 

So, that makes two consecutive clean scans, for the first time since all of this started. 

I'm done writing this blog post, I'm gonna go get drunk with the people I love.