Poker Face

Spoiler alert - it's all good! (I've learned not to toy with my readers)

Thursday I visited my oncologist for a regular routine follow-up visit, not really expecting anything unusual, but never really at ease until I actually leave the building (and then only if no bad news has been imparted). She did the physical exam, satisfied with the results, then sat down and said, "I think we need to do another PET/CT."

I remain impassive - on the outside. My heart leaps into my throat, my mind moves into overdrive imagining out-of-control tumor markers and another round of slash-burn-poison (where is it this time? is it even operable?), my palms start to get sweaty, my mouth gets dry (oh, wait, it's already dry because of the radiation aftereffects. Nevertheless...). None of this is evident to my doctor as I ask in a calm voice whether there's a reason we need to do it right now. She looks surprised and I suddenly realize she means she wants another PET/CT at the usual 6-month mark in September, not right now. She notes that everything is fine physically, I have no evidence of any symptoms (I ruefully note to her that I've been gaining weight, not losing weight), and that my last PET/CT was "absolutely perfect" as she put it. She wasn't even terribly concerned about my recent blood work, telling me that she didn't have the report from the lab yet but her nurse coordinator would get a copy and mail it to me. Dare I say she was even a little bit giddy about my current N.E.D. status? I do dare!

I leave shortly thereafter, my internal drama hidden from view, my heart rate returning to normal, my mind already moving on and looking to the evening ahead (gotta find out where LeBron's gonna go!). And...no reason to think that I need to fold 'em and cash in my chips yet. The game of life continues.

Blessings and Love to All.