
I promised you the news when I got it.
It’s not the news I wanted, but it’s the closest it can be — which, in this world, counts as awesome.
Thank you all for your crossed fingers and toes, your thoughts and prayers, and your pleas to Mother Earth. I appreciate every single effort on my behalf.
Luke and I waited in that small little room for what seemed like hours (but was probably fifteen minutes). Me — my usual version of “calm,” meaning foot pumping, standing, sitting, standing again, stomping, sighing, repeat. And Luke — sitting perfectly still with his trademark Starfighter calm.
Finally, the doctor came in — and her radiant smile told it all before she even spoke.
I won’t bore you with the doctor/scientist version, but here’s the simple truth: I had two affected lymph nodes, and they are now much smaller. And much less bright.
PET scans use an isotope that “lights up” the cancer — and where I once glowed like a neon sign at 14, I now barely shimmer at 3.
Hallelujah.
So, when you look at the photo — the left side is the first PET scan and the right side is the new one.
A cherry became a pinto bean.
An almond became a little English pea.
Normally, I hate peas.
But I love this one.
As for brightness — the first scan could shine in full sunlight, and the new one? You’d barely spot it under a quarter moon.
So here we are — halfway done, and if all goes as planned, it should be over by Christmas.
🎃 Happy Halloween to all — from your half-lit, pea-loving, halfway warrior. 💚
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