When it comes to birthdays, I have never grown up.
I still anticipate each one with the giddiness of a child. Those who approach their birthdays with dread mystify me. Birthdays always have and always will be an occasion for celebration to me, now even more than ever. What can be bad about marking the blessing of another year of life?
My birthday yesterday was made even more special by the greetings that popped into my e-mail all day via facebook. I am still a facebook novice and didn't realize so many people make it a habit to send birthday greetings to their facebook friends. I even had to ask someone how birthdays appear on facebook pages so I can make sure to return the greetings when other friends are celebrating their special days.
This birthday was also sweeter with the remembrance of a few dark days in the midst of my Cancer 2.0 when I wondered if I would have another birthday. I give thanks for my healing every day, and on special days like my birthday, I celebrate my good health even more.
I am very blessed, and sharing my birthday with facebook friends yesterday just multiplied my blessings.
Friday, September 17, 2010
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Getting my fix
I never get tired of a good report from the doctor. My latest check-up Wednesday followed a familiar routine that has become addictive.
First comes the blood draw for the necessary lab report, but it is not painful thanks to the medi-port that still sits just under the skin on my right shoulder blade. Next a medical technician checks me in, going through a list of questions to remind me how well I am doing as I answer negatively to queries about pain, fatigue or other problems. Then there are the too-slow minutes waiting in the exam room with unbidden what-if thoughts keeping me company.
Finally, the doctor appears in the doorway and my senses go on high alert. My eyes search his face for signals while my ears strain to hear the words that are my fix for the next several months: "Your scans are fine."
There were plenty of times in the days leading up to and shortly after my February 2009 surgery that I was really tired of what seemed to be endless visits to doctors. Now I look forward to the welcome validation of my health.
I have been deeply blessed, and every few months, a doctor reminds me so.
First comes the blood draw for the necessary lab report, but it is not painful thanks to the medi-port that still sits just under the skin on my right shoulder blade. Next a medical technician checks me in, going through a list of questions to remind me how well I am doing as I answer negatively to queries about pain, fatigue or other problems. Then there are the too-slow minutes waiting in the exam room with unbidden what-if thoughts keeping me company.
Finally, the doctor appears in the doorway and my senses go on high alert. My eyes search his face for signals while my ears strain to hear the words that are my fix for the next several months: "Your scans are fine."
There were plenty of times in the days leading up to and shortly after my February 2009 surgery that I was really tired of what seemed to be endless visits to doctors. Now I look forward to the welcome validation of my health.
I have been deeply blessed, and every few months, a doctor reminds me so.
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