I'm off for my fifth and final (I hope) CT scan. Scan today, doc next Friday. In April, it will be five years since doctors discovered cancer in my gut. This happened, I might reiterate, during my first, very first, routine colonoscopy. I had no pain (except occasionally when I ate HOT Indian food, and who doesn't have pain with that?).
If I sail through this scan, and get a clean bill of health, I guess I can declare myself cured. I can declare myself cured anyway, but I'd like to get clearance from an expert, my oncologist. I know he'll miss me. My belly has grown more flabby in the five years since I've been seeing him. I can blame that on: menopause, getting my stomach slit open from button to, well, uh, you know. Oh, and food. Chicago food. OMG it's good.
So I must run, I'll let you know if I get released after I see the doc next week.
I'm not drinking during Lent, but I might have to raise a glass to good news.
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