Sunday, May 1, 2016
four and a half years
in which our plucky heroine feels not so plucky
Every six months a checkup... that is tomorrow... cancer sucks. I never ever feel "safe" or "recovered", every unfamiliar twinge or symptom is worriesome. I try my best not to think about it all the time. I almost always do well at enjoying the present moment, though I did that before cancer became part of my story. But I never know if some bodily change is simply the result of normal aging, or the result of a rogue cell that escaped the knife and the heat and the radiation... The checkup tomorrow could bring another six month respite, or not.