Friday, April 15
It’s evening and I am catching my breath.
We saw Dr. Oncology Monday, for a very mundane visit: bloodwork, any side effects? Nope. After my check-in MRI with Mack the Knife next month, we’ll get onto a scan routine. I thanked her for the quality of care I’ve received– the more I read about the cancer care other people receive, the more grateful I am. That was the most anticlimactic cancer check-in ever.
One year ago, I had barely begun radiation and chemo. Here I am, tonight, one fried brain tumor under my belt and a month into a drug that, for many, has been a miracle. I’ve made it through life-threatening pneumonitis, a pulmonary embolism, and many many months of high-dose steroids.
Somebody asked me recently what stage cancer I have and I said, the Whack-A-Mole stage.
More accurately, I have Stage IV lung cancer and I can live with that for years. What does that mean?
I found an answer in a small book a friend loaned me, titled A Psalm for the Wild Built.
“It is enough to exist in the world and marvel at it. You don’t need to justify that, or earn it. You are allowed to just live.”
Today, this is everything.
