I have a praise and a complaint, which is generally how life goes if we are all being honest. We have to take the bad with the good because nobody gets all good and while there are folks out there who seem to get dumped on more than the rest of us, even they'd be likely to say it's not ALL bad.
I went to my 6 month oncology appointment which actually turned into a 7 month appointment, but that's okay, too. My Doc said all my numbers are perfect- platelets, white blood cells, red blood cells, everybody. She wanted to know if I had any pain. Nope. Appetite, sleep, energy levels are all decently good. Yes, I have that end-of-the-school-year tired that everyone else is dragging themselves through. Yes, I just want it to be summer schedule so we can stay up late and get up whenever and be outside in the sunshine and I can get the garden going and and and...
Yes, everything looks good. She was very pleased. Then she told me that I am her target. She herself, my outstanding oncologist, has been diagnosed with the exact same thing I had. She is halfway through chemo and said it is kicking her butt. She is losing patches of hair and that woman has HAIR. If she'd ever, even once, been cold/standoffish/treating me like I was just a chart, I would say that "well, at least now she can better empathize with her patients" but this woman has been incredible from the get go. Part of why I like going to the appointments despite the bloodwork is because of the family feel the entire staff displays. They tease each other and the patients, they carry on, they laugh a lot. For her to have dedicated her life to eradicating cancer in her patients and then end up with it herself... you bet I'm complaining. I call BS! Not fair. So all of you have an assignment: offer up thanks that I am doing so well here at the 5 years since diagnosis mark, and use that energy you poured into me to lift up my superhero Doc!
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