I had an appointment with my Oncologist today. The results of my CT scan are great. No sign of the cancer. I don't get to be officially in remission till after a PET scan in December, and even perhaps another PET scan three months after that. But a clear CT scan is good news. Not unexpected, but welcome news.
My face is healing slowly. I have a crater in my cheek. A hole. It is yucky for sure. I am supposed to leave it open for some of the day, per Dr, Franklin. When I don't have a band-aid on it, Jackson looks closely at me and points at it. He says "Mamma has a boo boo." Which is really cute and somewhat weird because as far as I know, none of his care-givers have ever referred to a wound as a boo boo. Did he come up with that on his own? From a cartoon? A book someone read to him? We just don't know, but it is sweet.
Jackson is really clingy to me right now. Especially when I am getting dressed and ready to leave the house. My being in the hospital for 5 1/2 days was hard on him. Independent little guy that he is, even he developed some insecurity from me being so sick, followed by a hospital stay. Yesterday morning David got him out of bed and when Jackson didn't see me he said, "Mamma in the hospital?" So heartbreaking to me. Poor guy. David had to bring him in our room to show him I was there. It will get better, I am sure, but it sure is sad to see that my baby has learned to expect me to be sick or gone. 'Mamma sleeping' is a phrase I hear him say far too often.
I am recovering though. I am very slow and my large leg muscles feel atrophied. If I squat down to Jackson's level to see him or zip his coat, I almost need a hand to stand back up. I rousted Jackson last night to help me pick up all his toys from every corner of the living room and after bending and picking up toys and books for ten minutes I was spent. I felt like I had been to the gym for a workout. I guess I just need time to get my stamina, strength and red blood cell levels back. Plus I have a big ol hole in my face that my body is desperately trying to knit skin for.
I wish it would hurry up. I have David's swanky work Christmas party on Saturday and I would rather not go with a band aid on my face. That is a long-shot though and I'd better not get my hopes up. I just won't pose for the nice professional portraits they usually do at the party. Band aid girl doesn't want to be remembered. Course this is part of my life, my story so I may as well commemorate it with a portrait. I should find a nice festive band aid. With holly or Santa on it. Or maybe not.
I asked Dr. George when I could expect my lab values, mostly blood counts, to rebound and be that of a normal, non-chemo-poisoned person. He seemed to think because I am young, that within a month or two I should see much improvement. I am ready to become strong again. I am not ready to start and exercises program yet, but I know I need to move and stretch and start building stamina.
I have about a half inch of hair on my head. I have been ignoring its growth since the third round of chemo, when it sprouted. But it is definitely there. Ladies and gentlemen, we have hair. Nothing I would take out in public yet, but we have progress.
And normally I would be having chemo tomorrow. But I am not. I am done. I don't have to go to chemo this week. Yippee! Of course, if I wasn't done with chemo I would still not be having it tomorrow. Not with this open wound on my face. It is a good thing this happened at the end of treatment, because if it had happened in the middle, it would have delayed chemo, perhaps for a couple of weeks while I healed. I would have hated that. So yippee for no more chemo and yippee for awful infections that happen at the end and not the middle.