Can you believe it's November 30th?! ... I sure can't.
I'm not sure if it's because I've spent the last several months napping in my spare time, or if it's because the Earth really is rotating faster on its axis (I know, I know... it's probably the naps), but I honestly can't make any sense of where the last six months have gone.
Tomorrow, it's December.
But I feel like Christmas has already come.
I've been a real slacker at updating the blog lately. (See above: I've been napping.) I made every effort to contact people personally, but just in case anyone reads the blog who isn't in my phone or tied to me through the Facebook, I'll say it again...
I had my scan last week. The growth in my side hasn't changed at all, and Leftie has gone from two inches to two and a half inches at her widest point. (My tumors are usually male. But considering this one's on an ovary, I figured it was only right to assign her a female identity, complete with a name ending in "ie".) I know (oh, trust me, I KNOW) that half inch sounds like a lot. It's roughly 20% growth (which, again, I know sounds like a lot), but it turns out that 20% is smack in the middle of the safety zone (5%) and the danger zone (50%), so Dr. H let me decide if I wanted to start chemo now, or wait another scan cycle.
Hello, easiest decision ever. I'm keeping my hair for Christmas! (I decided this after conferring with the good doctor, of course. He assures me that if/when this tumor starts to really grow, I'm going to know it. I feel like it's plenty safe to put off chemo for another scan cycle, because I know what symptoms to be on the lookout for, and I know that I have a direct line (either phone or email) into my beloved doctor if/when I cross that bridge.)
Having had the expectation that chemo would most likely be happening during the holiday season, I can't even tell you what it has meant to me to have that sentence lifted. (Seriously. I can't tell you, because I tear up and lose the ability to speak, every time I stop long enough to actually think about what I've been given for Christmas this year: Time.)
Because I didn't have an outpatient procedure this week to put in a port, I was able to go home for Thanksgiving for the first time since 2008, and it was a glorious, wonderful, fabulous, festive and song-filled weekend. (Judy, Katie and I started caroling Friday morning - it was the day after Thanksgiving, so it was totally okay - and the music didn't stop until bedtime last night.)
It was great to be home with family and visit with friends at home. I'm going back in three weeks for Christmas, and please believe me when I say that I couldn't be happier about that.
I love this time of year. I love it more than I can say!
I'd resigned myself to the thought that I'd be sick and tired for the holidays this year (more tired than usual, and sicker than I've ever been), and I was okay with that, because when it comes to the cancer, rolling with the punches is easier than fighting them, and if chemo is what I have to do next, then chemo, it is. ... So, getting the holidays back, complete with trips home to Taylor to spend time with my family (and friends who are like family) there? It means more to me than I could ever say.
So, tomorrow it's December. And, while I have no idea how that happened, I intend to live every day in December to its fullest. (Even if that means that I fall asleep on the couch at 5:00, Netflixing a cheesy Christmas movie, I'll be living and loving the crap out of this December!)
I don't know that I've ever had a more grateful Thanksgiving, and I'm looking forward to December more than I'm sure I ever have. It's amazing, the perspective that an extra 1/2 inch on a tumor can give a girl.
That 1/2 inch growth really is the best gift I've ever been given, and I'm incredibly, amazingly, humbly, grateful for that gift.