I got the scan results from my doc, and it’s another mixed bag, as he puts it. Good news: Many of my tumors have shrunk or are at least stable. These include some of the biggies in my liver, kidneys and lungs, so the Keytruda is definitely doing something! The bad news is that there are a few small new spots (like a little lymph node in my chest somewhere), but more concerning is that I might have an unknown number of spots in my brain (which would be new and crappy).
There’s a long, and not very interesting, saga about how I was supposed to have had a brain MRI last week, but the scheduler told me the wrong day, so I’ll still have to wait for results of that. I’m actually not too eager to get the results, since I’m really liking the whole “ignorance is bliss” thing I am happy that it looks like the Keytruda is working, and I’m hoping that it continues to be true. This is also good news because I can continue on the Keytruda because it does look like it’s working. I have a weird desire to continue on whatever treatment I’m on, like it’s some kind of superstitious thing.
I’m trying to stay pretty positive about the news overall. I mean, the tumors are shrinking! I’m hoping and praying that the tumors continue to be responsive to Keytruda for a while, to give me even more time.
I often have to stop and remind myself how incredibly lucky I am. I almost died a very short time ago. I was given hours to live. And yet, I am still here, stronger than ever. I feel almost (almost) back to whatever “normal” is now. I want more time, so, so much more time, but I have to remember I was almost out of time just a month or two ago. Everything I am experiencing how is bonus time, and yet and I am so very greedy for more every time I look at my beautiful baby.
She is getting so grown up. On one hand, I cannot believe I have been lucky enough to live so long as to see her really start to come into her own. She comes up with simply fantastic ideas every day, all on her own. This morning alone, she made coasters, a necklace, and invented an honest-to-God game that the three of us played tonight (it had rules that worked and everything! She even found her own little box to put it all in). I never thought I would get to see her personality develop or start to have a real relationship with her (complete with fraught mommy-daughter moments and everything). Before she was born, I could not even imagine knowing her as a baby, let alone as a little person. In that sense, I often marvel at my good fortune.
On the other hand, now that I’ve had a taste of how amazing she is and how she will only become more amazing each day, I want more. In some ways, it’s not fair that I’ve lived long enough to see her incredible personality. When she was a baby, of course I loved her, but she was a baby more or less like all other babies. Sweet, adorable, incredibly lovable, but still just a baby. Now I really know who she is and I am in awe of her and everything she does. She is doing simple math, like addition and subtraction. She is counting higher than I thought possible at this age. She is starting to “read” street signs and is showing more and more interest in reading in general.
So yeah. I want more time. And even more time than that. I know it’s selfish and I’ve already had one miracle (how many can one person have?), but I’m going to keep praying for more and more and more time as long as I can.