NED lives!

Just got the results from my CT scan on Monday. Still NED! No cancer! I think we've proved who's boss here, Mr. Cancer. If that even is your real name...

Thanks for the shout out, Iva Skoch!

Look at that, my blog was mentioned in Newsweek! How exciting. And I just happened to find it by clicking through the article. What a nice sur-prize!

A Malignant Melanoma Walks Into a Bar...

Thanks, Iva! Maybe one day I'll be in NYC and you can step on *my* toes in the subway. Then we can laugh and laugh and laugh. Soooo funny!

And here's how it ends

Well folks, I think it's official. I am going to close down this blog. But I will leave you with two pieces of the legacy of cancer. The first is a membership card for an organization that you must be 55 or over to join.

Really? You just put me on a senior citizen mailing list because I got cancer?

The second is an invitation to pre-pay for my own cremation in order to help my family in these dark times.

Apparently to direct-mail companies a cancer diagnosis is still the same thing as a death sentence. Somebody should let them know that's sooooo 1950's.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that the only thing I know for sure at this point about cancer is that it puts you on the world's weirdest mailing list.

I hope this blog has served it's purpose. I started it as both a way to express all my convoluted cancer ramblings as well as a way to reach people in the same boat and hopefully let them know they have a shipmate.

Aye, Aye, mateys!

Hello, my name STILL is...

N.E.D.

Got the results of the latest CT scan and there is No Evidence of Disease.

Ha!

Take that you stupid-ass cancer! (Or should that be stupid, ass cancer?)

I'll get it in my cereal

I know I've been absent from my own blog. But the truth is, I'm really sick of all things cancer. I'd be happy if I never had to hear that frickin' word again. I know I have to get my CT cans, my colonoscopies, and all that, but I really just want to leave it all behind. While I fully support all those folks who, post-cancer, go to work for cancer organizations or become chemo nurses or support fellow cancer-citizens in some way, I'm not that person. I'm so sick of being a "patient" that I've made a vow not to have any diseases that require a daily pill. I'd even stopped taking my daily multivitamin for while - I'll get all the crap I need in my ultrafibersuperomegamiltivitiminous breakfast cereal.

So where does that leave this bog? I dunno. Maybe I'll start a new one. Maybe I'll record my deepest thoughts in some other way. Skywriting? Tantric archetypes? Cave paintings?

Really? That long?

Has it really been that long since I posted?

Hrumph.

Well, the truth of the matter is that the school year still has 2 weeks left and I'm all overwhelmed and stuff with students.

Could be worse.

One year anniversary of end of chemo is in 4 days. Well, ain't that somethin'?

Don't ever give up.

While doing laundry this morning I walked by the bags of weeds that we collected about six months ago. (Yes, they've been sitting out there for that long. Embarrassing, but true.) Out of the side of one of the bags, through the plastic, this little yellow flower had sprouted.

If a flower can sprout out of a dark, soil-free plastic bag then we can all grow in seemingly dark, dismal times.

Rock on, little yellow flower. Don't ever give up.