I thought it was finished, but it’s not. And I don’t know why. I have another scan tomorrow morning, first thing. The hospital called this afternoon. They tell me it’s not uncommon for doctors to request a second scan, but it’s clearly not routine, since we didn’t book it last week or the week before.
In spite of all the adjectives people have used in reference to my posts on this subject, which I felt were ill-suited at the best of times, I’m not feeling particularly calm, brave, strong, or positive. I’m just bewildered and scared. Once again, I’m caught in the space between panic, denial, and hope: it could be something terrible, another cancer somewhere, another surgery looming, another round of radiation. More nausea, more headaches, more fear. Or it could be nothing. Until now, they’ve told me there are no signs, no indication of any spread, lymph nodes negative, all that. My surgeon said: “you’re probably cured.” My endocrinologist cut my radiation dose in half because of my low-risk of any additional tumours. So could be nothing at all. And yet: a surprise call, another repeat test required. The doctor isn’t in until tomorrow afternoon, no one can tell me why.
I want to know why. I’m scared to know why now.
This is the point where you remind yourself that when you have your health back, when your feet are steadier under you again, you will be grateful for it every waking moment. Every damn waking moment.