Shrink, baby, shrink!

I felt a little like a Halloween pumpkin getting ready to be carved. The doctor was pressing the lump in my abdomen, marking its edges as he went with his black pen. He didn't draw a smile on my tummy, but I felt one inside. Cautious but optimistic, he said it seemed a slight bit softer than when he had previously palpated it.

Many times with sarcomas, chemotherapy can kill off the cancer cells but still leave much of the dying tumor behind, not much smaller than when it was growing, the doctor explained. Drawing the edges will give us something to measure against in coming weeks, he explained.

Blood test results gave us more reason to smile. What the doctors call a tumor marker had gone from 5 when I had my annual checkup with Dr. Brenda in July to a 48 just before my chemotherapy began. Now it is 41 -- definitely moving in the right direction.

My own comfort level also tells me something is working. My belly no longer feels ready to explode, pressing painly against my innards.

I am holding onto the image of a fast-shrinking tumor. I might even ask Tom to retrace the doctor's pen lines with a Sharpie to make sure we can document the lump's retreat!