The doc called yesterday

Well, actually the nurse, but I thought writing the doc called would be more dramatic. I got my CAT scan yesterday, so they were calling to report. Seems to be

ALL CLEAR.

Ha! I don't know the details yet, like if I can get my port out or how often I have to have a CAT scan or do I have to have a colonoscopy every three days for five years; I'll learn that next week when I meet with the doc. But I guess he doesn't get to deliver good news every day and maybe he was excited to get to do that. Or maybe he thought I would be worried about the results and he wanted to ease my mind. (The more likely scenario.) I waited this long; I didn't mind waiting another week, but it's really nice to know.

I think I'll celebrate this weekend. I'm taking Friday off to go to see Othello. We might go downtown early and play around, maybe go to the Art Institute. Depends on the weather, I guess. It was supposed to be sunny and 50, but the weather forecast has changed, and now it looks like it's going to be cold and wet. Quite a turn around.

Anyway, I thought I would give my CAT scan report. I don't know how I got to be one of the lucky survivors. But I'm glad I am. Exclamation mark.

Last year at this time

I was oblivious to what my upcoming year would hold. Surgery to remove a golf-ball-sized cancerous tumor in my colon; six months of chemo. My discovery fell during Holy Week last year, which happened to be a couple weeks later than it is this year. I had my first colonoscopy on Maundy Thursday 2007 and that's when one doctor proclaimed that whatever was inside of me "was not good." Good Friday was not that great.

So I have an anniversary coming up: April 5, discovery; April 12, surgery. This week I get a CAT scan and next week my oncologist will read it. Hopefully, the spot he discovered on my lung last CAT scan will turn out to be nothing, and I can get this port out of my body. Once the port is gone, I think I will feel like I have conquered. But now that I have written this, have I jinxed myself? No, this post is just to let my friends and family know what's going on. I don't think I'm scared or apprehensive. I just want to enjoy my summer this year (if, indeed, it ever comes), so I would prefer no surprises. I know that doesn't mean I won't get any.

But, really. I'm kind of tired of doctors.

I'm poo-phoric!

Deb sent me this link today to a Salon story. It almost makes me feel normal. Everybody's talking about Poo. The book I list in the left on my blog, What's Your Poo Telling You, is being discussed. You really need to look at the video for a good smile.

This just makes me so happy. (Kate just sent me another bathroom story today. You just have to read this. It's about a woman who sat on a toilet seat for two years--so long her skin grew around the seat. Kate is the queen of finding bizarre stories.)




On an unrelated note. My hair is sitting on top of my head like Marge Simpson's. I need to just go ahead and get it all cut off. It's gotten really wavy.

My trip to the Chicago dog show

Here's my video from the dog show, which I went to all by myself. All my friends at work are cat-lovers. One loves guinea pigs. And another--when she was a kid--drowned her pet hamster because she didn't want it anymore. Woof!