Times when I forget

Last week I went for one of my (now quarterly) MRI scans and went through the results with the oncologist this morning. The scans show evidence of some scar tissue and radiation effects, but no concerning changes to either tumour site - just what we wanted to hear. Every time we go through this, the few days between scan and results are a little nerve-wracking. Again, it's just something we'll get more and more used to as time passes. The 'new normal' around here. Anyway, it was a good start to the week and I've also been signed off to start the second round of chemo tomorrow.

One thing I've noticed recently is a great feeling of actually forgetting that I'm a cancer patient. I think on some level I'm always conscious that I'm fighting it. There are the visual clues of hair loss and surgery scars; when I'm riding, part of me is thinking that every pedal stroke is kicking sand in cancer's face; and often when I'm driving I'll drift into 'how did I get here?' moments.

Recently though, I've experienced moments of being so completely involved in something that afterwards I realised that I hadn't given the battle a thought for a while. Recent examples include a couple of hours of hilarious fun on jet-skis with Craig, my oldest friend (he's not actually that old, I've just known him a long time!). Coaching Patrick's football team to a win (or even a loss) has a similar, all-consuming effect. An impromptu night of wine and laughs with Mary and Daniel works well too, I've found.
Anyway, the feeling is absolutely blissful and, happily, is becoming more common.

Before I sign off, I just wanted to post my favourite image of last week...Anna smiling during the Twin Cities marathon - her first (and now it seems, not her last!). I'm not going to gush too much here, but...SHE'S AWESOME!

That's all for now - big hugs

ps. Remember I mentioned a few weeks ago that my blog stats were showing up a couple of views from Tanzania (strange). This week I see that Latvia is the oddball country on the list. So, "hello" to my Latvian friend(s). When I get a hit from Kurdistan, I'll be a happy man.