Into the Mystic

Every day (well...most days) I head out for an early morning walk around my neighborhood.  Even if it's cold. Even if it's drizzling.  And because I am one of those people who must listen to music while walking (or running), I put on my headphones and start my little journey with Van Morrison's "Into the Mystic."  From there the iPod is on "shuffle" and who knows what will come up.  But there is something about "Into the Mystic" that stirs my soul; that creates in me a longing to start the day; that causes me to look up to see (on occasion) the moon, the sun rise, the wild canaries in the trees, the slowly-moving clouds; that reminds me how much I love the  magical and the mystical despite my supremely practical and organized nature.

And because I begin this walk in an inspired and uplifted fashion, I of course must end it just as joyfully.  So I dance in the street all the way down the last block until I reach my house.  And yes, I have earned the "Crazy Dancing Lady" moniker from my neighbors who smile and give me a thumbs up when they see me.  Of course, that's to my face - behind my back I'm sure there are eyes rolling and forefingers circling temples.  But I figure it this way - if I start my day feeling happy and then later on things happen to anger, irritate or otherwise addle me - I have the opportunity to remember that for at least part of that day I was free and jubilant and lighthearted.

Which, by the way, also comes in handy when you get the "your PET Scan was not terrible" phone call from your onc.  Well clearly it was also not great.  So here it is in a nutshell - the 3 tumors that were radiated are gone.  However, 2 new ones have taken their place (both, fortunately, still in the bones) and the remaining tumors show small growth.  So progression, but not aggressive progression, of the disease and still no major organ involvement (probably my biggest fear each time I have one of these scans).  And the tumor load remains small compared to what it was in 2011.  The good news, of course, is that there is yet ANOTHER new drug specifically made for my style of MBC that we can use to try to slow or stop further progression (or, in best case scenario, send at least some of those nasty tumors into the mystic!).  I start it within the next couple of weeks and according to my onc, the side effects should be quite similar to what I experience now (i.e. with minimal quality of life impact).

The unfortunate additional consequence of receiving this news is the inevitable self-reflection on where I've been and where I'm going with respect to this disease.  I have to allow the negative thoughts, feelings, musings, and speculations wash over me and fill me up and frighten me until I have fully processed.  I have to consider how I'm going to share the news with family and friends.  I have to speak those fears and concerns out loud with a select few.  And I have to remind myself over and over and over again that although this disease is going to kill me sooner than I'd like - it's not going to kill me today. (It can't - my friend Kathy says she's not finished with me yet).

And then, of course, I remember that I've been here before with the "not terrible" PET scans of the past.  There have been dozens of "not terrible" PET scans and there is always a plan.  Dozens...and I always remember how lucky I am to still be here when others have not been so fortunate (rest in peace Gina Catapano, you were so very loved). Dozens...and I still manage to find quite a bit of humor in this crazy, weird, vexing, supernatural journey I've been on for the past almost-23 years.  Dozens...and I keep on going.  Every. Single. Time.

Because not only is Kathy not finished with me...I am not finished with me!  So don't expect me to slow down and certainly don't expect me to head into the mystic anytime soon.

Blessings and Love to All.