My grandson Dodge has been telling me the funniest joke. It's funny because he is not quite 27 months old and has only been talking about a month, but he went from just a few words to telling his first joke in no time at all.
It started one day when he was visiting and there had been rain with thunder, so he had quickly learned a new word. We talked about how thunder goes "boom!" and he enjoyed saying it with gusto. The next time I saw him, rain was nowhere in the forecast, but he looked at me with the orneriest grin and pronounced, "Hear funder, boom!"
Of course that made me quickly exclaim, "There's no thunder!" And that sent us both into a burst of giggles at the funny joke he had made with grandma.
My surprise at his new display of humor made the joke that much funnier. I had figured it would be another year or so before his talking progressed to the joke-telling stage. The inevitable knock-knock jokes can't be far off now, and they will be the funniest jokes I have ever heard.
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Reaching out for support
You never know whom you might touch when you send a message out into the social media universe. I was recently led to fellow blogger David Haas, who advocates for cancer patients to find strength and healing in support groups. At his request, I am sharing a post he wrote for this blog. I hope it helps someone in need of its message:
Support Helps on the Way to the Cure
If you have been diagnosed with cancer whether it is skin cancer, Leukemia, or even a rare disease like mesothelioma then you need to understand the benefits of having the support of others at your aide. There are a myriad of cancer survivor groups all over the world and with the advent of the Internet they are closer than ever before. If you are recently diagnosed, going through treatments, or are a cancer survivor you should recognize how well support groups help individuals going through trying times and how much of a benefit survivors can provide to others.
Doctors Agree
One irrefutable truth that most doctors can agree upon is that understanding and support can help those with cancer get through their tough times. Understanding what is going on during treatments and even being well versed the adverse effects of treatments can be beneficial. Peers going through the same or similar treatments can ultimately serve as a wonderful archive of knowledge and tips. Knowing what to expect is a great way to aide one in the fight against cancer. Friends and loved ones are able to provide a unique unrivaled support, but being able to discuss the specific, intimate details about an ailment with someone who has the same issue can be a great way to gain insight and help on the road to recovery.
Online Support Groups
Online support groups have become more prevalent as the Internet has become a bigger part in the lives of many. The Internet is now readily available wirelessly all over the world. Many smart phones and cellular devices have access to the Internet. This means for those battling cancer that support is always available. Anytime you are near your phone you can visit
websites, send emails, and keep up with others. There is no longer a reason to face the hardships of cancer alone. The support of friends and loved ones important, but having someone in your corner that personally knows what you’re going through is unbeatable. This is a great way to know what to expect and to be able to talk honestly and candidly about what you are going through with others that will be both knowledgeable and sympathetic about what you are going through.
Thanks, David. Nicely said!
Support Helps on the Way to the Cure
If you have been diagnosed with cancer whether it is skin cancer, Leukemia, or even a rare disease like mesothelioma then you need to understand the benefits of having the support of others at your aide. There are a myriad of cancer survivor groups all over the world and with the advent of the Internet they are closer than ever before. If you are recently diagnosed, going through treatments, or are a cancer survivor you should recognize how well support groups help individuals going through trying times and how much of a benefit survivors can provide to others.
Doctors Agree
One irrefutable truth that most doctors can agree upon is that understanding and support can help those with cancer get through their tough times. Understanding what is going on during treatments and even being well versed the adverse effects of treatments can be beneficial. Peers going through the same or similar treatments can ultimately serve as a wonderful archive of knowledge and tips. Knowing what to expect is a great way to aide one in the fight against cancer. Friends and loved ones are able to provide a unique unrivaled support, but being able to discuss the specific, intimate details about an ailment with someone who has the same issue can be a great way to gain insight and help on the road to recovery.
Online Support Groups
Online support groups have become more prevalent as the Internet has become a bigger part in the lives of many. The Internet is now readily available wirelessly all over the world. Many smart phones and cellular devices have access to the Internet. This means for those battling cancer that support is always available. Anytime you are near your phone you can visit
websites, send emails, and keep up with others. There is no longer a reason to face the hardships of cancer alone. The support of friends and loved ones important, but having someone in your corner that personally knows what you’re going through is unbeatable. This is a great way to know what to expect and to be able to talk honestly and candidly about what you are going through with others that will be both knowledgeable and sympathetic about what you are going through.
Thanks, David. Nicely said!
All A'Twitter
When I started this blog three years ago, I was amazed at the ability blogging gave me to reach out to audiences beyond my immediate target of family and friends. My initial purpose was to keep well-wishers updated on my cancer treatment, and it was therapy, too, to write some of what I was experiencing. It did that and more as friends shared with friends and people I never expected would be interested told me they appreciated what I wrote.
Lately I am astounded by the potential of Twitter and Facebook to carry the written word farther and faster. I am such a novice but, with some patient coaching from a work colleague, I am trying to learn how to speak Twitter.
It starts with declaring who you are, which is an interesting exercise in itself. My Twitter handle is @maryyost, and here is where I landed for my profile:
Advocate for hospitals and wellness; serial cancer survivor; former journalist; wife, mom and grandma living a blessed life!
There is something powerful about summing up who you are and what you stand for in a few words. It even gave me the option of sharing my blog site, which is nice! For me, the profile statement is a reminder that anything I post in this blog or Tweet about should fall somewhere within those attributes.
This morning I am feeling very blessed indeed. Indian summer is here, the weekend stretches ahead of me, I got to spend time with my daughter, mom and grandsons last night and my health is good. That's certainly something to tell the world!
Lately I am astounded by the potential of Twitter and Facebook to carry the written word farther and faster. I am such a novice but, with some patient coaching from a work colleague, I am trying to learn how to speak Twitter.
It starts with declaring who you are, which is an interesting exercise in itself. My Twitter handle is @maryyost, and here is where I landed for my profile:
Advocate for hospitals and wellness; serial cancer survivor; former journalist; wife, mom and grandma living a blessed life!
There is something powerful about summing up who you are and what you stand for in a few words. It even gave me the option of sharing my blog site, which is nice! For me, the profile statement is a reminder that anything I post in this blog or Tweet about should fall somewhere within those attributes.
This morning I am feeling very blessed indeed. Indian summer is here, the weekend stretches ahead of me, I got to spend time with my daughter, mom and grandsons last night and my health is good. That's certainly something to tell the world!
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Gym dandy
My surgical sabbatical is fully over now. The final sign I was back to normal following the removal of Cancer 2.1 came with my return to regular, early morning workouts. If I thought I was going to ease into it, all I had to do was glance at my long-time gym buddy for inspiration.
Rosalie and I share more than our gym visits. We are work colleagues whose offices are adjacent. We are both in our late 50s -- at least until her milestone birthday in December! And we are both cancer survivors who have faced recurrences with great success.
There was no way I could wimp out on returning to our workouts, knowing Rosalie would be right there beside me despite the chemo treatments she has been undergoing since mid-summer. I had quit our morning routines during my chemo treatment in late 2008 and early 2009, but Rosalie has kept right on, bald-headed and determined.
She was the first one I told about Cancer 2.1. She was in the hospital dealing with her own recurrence that morning in late July when my oncologist told me my latest CT scan showed a suspected new tumor. With her trademark sunny disposition and positive outlook, she comforted me with confident predictions for a quick return to good health.
Rosalie's treatment results have been wonderful and her outlook is as cheery as ever. It's easier to drag myself out of bed at 5 a.m., knowing she will be waiting. And if I don't show at the gym, I will still have to pass her office later at work. I couldn't have a better reason to exercise!
Rosalie and I share more than our gym visits. We are work colleagues whose offices are adjacent. We are both in our late 50s -- at least until her milestone birthday in December! And we are both cancer survivors who have faced recurrences with great success.
There was no way I could wimp out on returning to our workouts, knowing Rosalie would be right there beside me despite the chemo treatments she has been undergoing since mid-summer. I had quit our morning routines during my chemo treatment in late 2008 and early 2009, but Rosalie has kept right on, bald-headed and determined.
She was the first one I told about Cancer 2.1. She was in the hospital dealing with her own recurrence that morning in late July when my oncologist told me my latest CT scan showed a suspected new tumor. With her trademark sunny disposition and positive outlook, she comforted me with confident predictions for a quick return to good health.
Rosalie's treatment results have been wonderful and her outlook is as cheery as ever. It's easier to drag myself out of bed at 5 a.m., knowing she will be waiting. And if I don't show at the gym, I will still have to pass her office later at work. I couldn't have a better reason to exercise!
Monday, September 5, 2011
What not to wear
I finally accomplished something I have been wanting to do for months -- purging my closet of things I don't wear and, more importantly, shouldn't wear.
It has taken me way too long to come to grips with what looks good on me and what doesn't. Earlier this year I started paying more attention to necklines I feel better in and identifying the styles that just don't work; noting what pant lines flatter and which don't. I still don't have my optimal color palette worked out, but I'm getting closer.
To finish the job, I hauled everything out of the closet yesterday and promised myself only those items I feel good in would be returned to the hangers and shelves. Some I knew as I took them out wouldn't be going back in. Some items I had to try on again and still debated their future.
About 100 pieces didn't make the cut. Many of the pants, tops, skirts and suits got good use, even though they were not my most flattering styles. A few were barely worn and probably shouldn't have been bought in the first place. Hopefully they will be just right for someone else. I know some good charities that will be happy to help find them a new home.
Next goal is to apply this same discipline to other parts of my life. Life is too precious to squander by doing or thinking or saying things that don't reflect well on me.
It has taken me way too long to come to grips with what looks good on me and what doesn't. Earlier this year I started paying more attention to necklines I feel better in and identifying the styles that just don't work; noting what pant lines flatter and which don't. I still don't have my optimal color palette worked out, but I'm getting closer.
To finish the job, I hauled everything out of the closet yesterday and promised myself only those items I feel good in would be returned to the hangers and shelves. Some I knew as I took them out wouldn't be going back in. Some items I had to try on again and still debated their future.
About 100 pieces didn't make the cut. Many of the pants, tops, skirts and suits got good use, even though they were not my most flattering styles. A few were barely worn and probably shouldn't have been bought in the first place. Hopefully they will be just right for someone else. I know some good charities that will be happy to help find them a new home.
Next goal is to apply this same discipline to other parts of my life. Life is too precious to squander by doing or thinking or saying things that don't reflect well on me.
Friday, August 26, 2011
Same same
I always enjoy seeing my surgeon, but I hope I never see him again. He expressed the same sentiment when I saw him today for my surgery follow-up visit.
The big news of the day was what I expected to hear, but had held out a little hope that I would not hear. The pathology report from this latest tumor was the same bad kind of stuff he had removed in Feb. 2009, just not as big. Officially, it was recurrent leiomyosarcoma, or what I will designate as Cancer 2.1.
I would like to quit counting now. I would like to not ever have to number another cancer. One breast cancer and two sarcomas is plenty.
Sarcomas tend to come back, but they don't have to. If prayers and positive support can keep a recurrence at bay, this sarcoma doesn't have a chance!
The big news of the day was what I expected to hear, but had held out a little hope that I would not hear. The pathology report from this latest tumor was the same bad kind of stuff he had removed in Feb. 2009, just not as big. Officially, it was recurrent leiomyosarcoma, or what I will designate as Cancer 2.1.
I would like to quit counting now. I would like to not ever have to number another cancer. One breast cancer and two sarcomas is plenty.
Sarcomas tend to come back, but they don't have to. If prayers and positive support can keep a recurrence at bay, this sarcoma doesn't have a chance!
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Pillow talk
In most things I'm easy to please. I don't send food back in a restaurant. I prefer coffee with cream but can drink it black. I can listen to all kinds of music, I like watching all kinds of sports, and just about any wine is fine with me.
But when it comes to my pillow, I'm ridiculously particular. It's got to be fairly flat and fluff-able. Foam is a no-no. Firm pillows or pillows with too much stuffing give me a headache. I have been known to put a pillowcase on a hotel bath towel rather than use the fat pillows on the bed.
And I have no warm feelings for a pillow that has absorbed too much body heat. I am constantly flipping my pillow over in search of its cool side.
For my recent hospital stay, I was thrilled when the nurses told me it was OK to ask my husband to bring my pillow from home. The pain medicine helped me sleep that first night, but for the rest of my hospital stay, having my own pillow was a bigger comfort.
I was starting to think maybe it's time for me to grow up and improve my pillow tolerance, but then my older sister came to visit for a few days. I couldn't help but smile when she carried in her pillow from home along with her suitcase. Some comfort items are just worth hanging onto.
But when it comes to my pillow, I'm ridiculously particular. It's got to be fairly flat and fluff-able. Foam is a no-no. Firm pillows or pillows with too much stuffing give me a headache. I have been known to put a pillowcase on a hotel bath towel rather than use the fat pillows on the bed.
And I have no warm feelings for a pillow that has absorbed too much body heat. I am constantly flipping my pillow over in search of its cool side.
For my recent hospital stay, I was thrilled when the nurses told me it was OK to ask my husband to bring my pillow from home. The pain medicine helped me sleep that first night, but for the rest of my hospital stay, having my own pillow was a bigger comfort.
I was starting to think maybe it's time for me to grow up and improve my pillow tolerance, but then my older sister came to visit for a few days. I couldn't help but smile when she carried in her pillow from home along with her suitcase. Some comfort items are just worth hanging onto.
Monday, August 22, 2011
Rejuvenating
I approached the petunias with pruners and faith. I knew from past experience they would grow back, even if they looked ugly for a little while. I pruned with zeal, and silently prayed that my surgeon would exercise more wisdom and restraint in his work the next morning.
In my first days back home from the hospital, my petunias and I were in similar states of recuperation. The promise of better health was there, but we were still feeling the effects of sharp blades.
Our progress continues to track each other. I am feeling stronger, and "normal" doesn't feel so distant. And my petunias, while not as robust as they once were, are definitely gaining strength as well.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Impatient
I'm not very good at recuperation.
I do fine at sleeping in, but then I fight with myself the rest of the day. It is so foreign for me to take it easy that I naturally default to doing too much -- either by being on my feet longer than I should or even sitting at the computer too long. Then I wonder why I am achy and tired by afternoon.
And when I do finally make myself lie down again, I take guilt to bed with me. Ought I really be resting? Should I push through the aches to get stronger? Must I get back to the office, or even to the gym?
Then I try to remind myself: It's only been two weeks since I had major abdominal surgery!
I was blessed with being in good shape going into my surgery, and I have been blessed with a good recovery so far. Now all I need is a little patience to let the healing continue.
I do fine at sleeping in, but then I fight with myself the rest of the day. It is so foreign for me to take it easy that I naturally default to doing too much -- either by being on my feet longer than I should or even sitting at the computer too long. Then I wonder why I am achy and tired by afternoon.
And when I do finally make myself lie down again, I take guilt to bed with me. Ought I really be resting? Should I push through the aches to get stronger? Must I get back to the office, or even to the gym?
Then I try to remind myself: It's only been two weeks since I had major abdominal surgery!
I was blessed with being in good shape going into my surgery, and I have been blessed with a good recovery so far. Now all I need is a little patience to let the healing continue.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Naval attack!
The doctors are usually pretty good about documenting every little thing they've done in the surgeries I've had, but they missed something this last time. In addition to cutting out a tumor and snipping out a little of my small intestine, they forgot to mention they had also performed a belly button removal!
I didn't even know my belly button was missing until I removed the steri-strip bandages across my incision today. Maybe the doctors didn't realize either, but it is nowhere to be seen.
Not that it ever got to be seen much anyway. Most of my belly-button-baring in recent years has been restricted to sunbathing by myself at home, or in trips to Buckeye Lake and Las Vegas. As for future sunbathing, I figure a naval-less tummy won't be the wierdest thing to be seen either at Buckeye Lake or in Las Vegas.
I might need a good story for the grandkids, though. Kids tend to be fascinated with belly buttons anyway. I keep picturing some future boat trip when I'll decide it's OK to wear a two-piece bathing suit because it's just family. And suddenly little Dodge or Logan will fix eyes on my belly and say, "Grandma, what happened to your beeboo?"
My answer will be simple. "I had some really great doctors who wanted to make sure I was here with you!"
I didn't even know my belly button was missing until I removed the steri-strip bandages across my incision today. Maybe the doctors didn't realize either, but it is nowhere to be seen.
Not that it ever got to be seen much anyway. Most of my belly-button-baring in recent years has been restricted to sunbathing by myself at home, or in trips to Buckeye Lake and Las Vegas. As for future sunbathing, I figure a naval-less tummy won't be the wierdest thing to be seen either at Buckeye Lake or in Las Vegas.
I might need a good story for the grandkids, though. Kids tend to be fascinated with belly buttons anyway. I keep picturing some future boat trip when I'll decide it's OK to wear a two-piece bathing suit because it's just family. And suddenly little Dodge or Logan will fix eyes on my belly and say, "Grandma, what happened to your beeboo?"
My answer will be simple. "I had some really great doctors who wanted to make sure I was here with you!"
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
The Dow what?
I'm starting to feel singularly responsible for the nation's economy. How else do you explain the dramatic downturns that have accompanied my last two health crises?
In the fall of 2008, I remember a fog of scary newspaper headlines while I was preoccupied with my own bad news -- a nasty tumor that appeared suddenly in my gut and grew quickly. The economy contintued to struggle for months while I dealt with chemo and surgery. I felt bad for the ecomony, but I didn't have the energy or desire to indulge my usual joy of shopping.
Gradually we both returned to better health, the economy and I, and things were looking brighter until earlier this summer. Then, as economists and bond raters furrowed their brows at the growing U.S. debt and Congressional inaction, doctors frowned at my latest CT results. Nobody liked what they saw.
This week's market plunge coincided with my hospital stay, but hopefully the worst is over. I'm slowly regaining my strength, and the markets are trying to work their way back to health.
Now I'm more than curious: what was the state of the economy during my breast cancer battle in 1996-97? Either way, let's get on with a sustained recovery!
In the fall of 2008, I remember a fog of scary newspaper headlines while I was preoccupied with my own bad news -- a nasty tumor that appeared suddenly in my gut and grew quickly. The economy contintued to struggle for months while I dealt with chemo and surgery. I felt bad for the ecomony, but I didn't have the energy or desire to indulge my usual joy of shopping.
Gradually we both returned to better health, the economy and I, and things were looking brighter until earlier this summer. Then, as economists and bond raters furrowed their brows at the growing U.S. debt and Congressional inaction, doctors frowned at my latest CT results. Nobody liked what they saw.
This week's market plunge coincided with my hospital stay, but hopefully the worst is over. I'm slowly regaining my strength, and the markets are trying to work their way back to health.
Now I'm more than curious: what was the state of the economy during my breast cancer battle in 1996-97? Either way, let's get on with a sustained recovery!
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Back home again!
I dreamed last night that I lived in an amazing house with the most wonderful amenities and immense comfort. And I woke up in that same mindset. My home hadn't changed during five days in the hospital, but my appreciation was much keener. I received great care in the hospital, but nothing beats being back home.
My surgery went well and the doctors said it was a best-case scenario. The tumor they removed was fully encapsulated, with no dreaded tendrils sneaking away to cause trouble elsewhere. No hysterectormy was necessary afterall, and I sacrificed just a bit of small intestine to which the tumor was attached. Everything else they could see in my innards looked clean, including lymph nodes.
The prayers that preceded me into the hospital and have followed me home are much appreciated. As I work through recuperation, my daily mantra is this: I am very blessed!
My surgery went well and the doctors said it was a best-case scenario. The tumor they removed was fully encapsulated, with no dreaded tendrils sneaking away to cause trouble elsewhere. No hysterectormy was necessary afterall, and I sacrificed just a bit of small intestine to which the tumor was attached. Everything else they could see in my innards looked clean, including lymph nodes.
The prayers that preceded me into the hospital and have followed me home are much appreciated. As I work through recuperation, my daily mantra is this: I am very blessed!
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Cheers!
I'm toasting to good friends. I'm toasting to good times. I'm toasting to good food. I'm toasting to toast. I'm toasting to anything I can think of to try to get this gallon jug emptied.
It's surgery prep day, and that means I am supposed to drink this awful stuff to clean up my innards, but I'm not very good at it.
I started right on time -- set the alarm clock for 6:45 so I could begin my cocktails at 7 a.m. And I have been drinking a glass every 15 minutes as directed -- but apparently my glass wasn't big enough. Instead of finishing the jug in two hours, it's been four hours now and I'm still not finished.
So here come more toasts -- to rainy mornings that I don't have to go to work, to emails letting me know I'm in the prayers of lots of people, to nearby bathrooms, to finally emptying the jug. Here's to you!
It's surgery prep day, and that means I am supposed to drink this awful stuff to clean up my innards, but I'm not very good at it.
I started right on time -- set the alarm clock for 6:45 so I could begin my cocktails at 7 a.m. And I have been drinking a glass every 15 minutes as directed -- but apparently my glass wasn't big enough. Instead of finishing the jug in two hours, it's been four hours now and I'm still not finished.
So here come more toasts -- to rainy mornings that I don't have to go to work, to emails letting me know I'm in the prayers of lots of people, to nearby bathrooms, to finally emptying the jug. Here's to you!
Saturday, July 30, 2011
No Chemo Sabe?
What comes after my upcoming surgery? That question was on my mind this week as I kept an appointment with the oncologist who has been watching over me since my Feb. 2009 sarcoma surgery.
Back in my first encounters with this physician, he scared me with talk of inpatient chemo as a means to keep a recurrence at bay. We settled then on close surveillance with no follow-up chemo, in part because I had just endured four months of chemo. Now I was wondering if he was going to sugggest inpatient chemo again after my Aug. 4 surgery.
He surprised me by saying we might opt again for close surveillance, and the reason was something I hadn't considered. Turns out some chemos carry lifetime maximums. Apparently the drugs I received in 1996-97 with breast cancer and the course in 2008-09 for sarcoma -- involving four of the most effective chemo drugs still in use -- aren't recommended to be taken repeatedly.
Follow-up treatment decisions won't be made until I see the oncologist again in September and we have biopsy results from the surgery. So now my feelings are mixed -- part relief that he is considering no chemo, and part dismay that my treatment options are limited.
Funny how you suddenly think you want something -- even as unpleasant as chemo -- as soon as someone suggests maybe you can't have it!
Back in my first encounters with this physician, he scared me with talk of inpatient chemo as a means to keep a recurrence at bay. We settled then on close surveillance with no follow-up chemo, in part because I had just endured four months of chemo. Now I was wondering if he was going to sugggest inpatient chemo again after my Aug. 4 surgery.
He surprised me by saying we might opt again for close surveillance, and the reason was something I hadn't considered. Turns out some chemos carry lifetime maximums. Apparently the drugs I received in 1996-97 with breast cancer and the course in 2008-09 for sarcoma -- involving four of the most effective chemo drugs still in use -- aren't recommended to be taken repeatedly.
Follow-up treatment decisions won't be made until I see the oncologist again in September and we have biopsy results from the surgery. So now my feelings are mixed -- part relief that he is considering no chemo, and part dismay that my treatment options are limited.
Funny how you suddenly think you want something -- even as unpleasant as chemo -- as soon as someone suggests maybe you can't have it!
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Here we go again
Past readers of this blog will know immediately what my title means, and it's not heralding good news. But it's not terrible, either.
The physicians who have kept a close eye on me for nearly three years now saw something they didn't like in my latest CT scans. So I have a date with one of my favorite surgeons August 4 at OSU Medical Center.
I am not ready to pronounce this latest development as Cancer 2.1, but it is a suspected recurrence of the sarcoma I battled from the fall of 2008 through February 2009, when a 10-pound tumor was taken from my adbdomen. That it might be back is not a surprise; it's what my brand of sarcoma tends to do.
The good news is I feel great and have no symptoms other than a picture on a CT test. With my 1996 breast cancer and my Cancer 2.0, I felt lumps before doctors diagnosed malignancies.
And I am thankful I even had this last round of CTs. My oncologist had considered not doing another set of scans before my last four-month checkup. But I liked the security of hearing my innards were cancer-free, so he scheduled new tests at my request.
Just in case, I am starting my blog back up and putting out a call for prayers. Being able to express myself here, and knowing that family and friends were praying for my recovery was great medicine before, and I know it will be again.
Thanks in advance for putting in a good word for me!
The physicians who have kept a close eye on me for nearly three years now saw something they didn't like in my latest CT scans. So I have a date with one of my favorite surgeons August 4 at OSU Medical Center.
I am not ready to pronounce this latest development as Cancer 2.1, but it is a suspected recurrence of the sarcoma I battled from the fall of 2008 through February 2009, when a 10-pound tumor was taken from my adbdomen. That it might be back is not a surprise; it's what my brand of sarcoma tends to do.
The good news is I feel great and have no symptoms other than a picture on a CT test. With my 1996 breast cancer and my Cancer 2.0, I felt lumps before doctors diagnosed malignancies.
And I am thankful I even had this last round of CTs. My oncologist had considered not doing another set of scans before my last four-month checkup. But I liked the security of hearing my innards were cancer-free, so he scheduled new tests at my request.
Just in case, I am starting my blog back up and putting out a call for prayers. Being able to express myself here, and knowing that family and friends were praying for my recovery was great medicine before, and I know it will be again.
Thanks in advance for putting in a good word for me!
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