This House is Clean

I don’t even know how to start this post. I have so much to say, yet when I try to find the words I want to say I am at a loss. Right now it’s less about words, and more about pure emotion.

I should start with the good news. My PET Scan showed no signs of cancer. The chemotherapy has done its job well. At the moment I heard the news I literally felt like a weight was lifted off of my shoulders. I’ve used that phrase for years, but this is the first time I physically felt it. At one point today I pictured the psychic from Poltergeist (Tangina) saying in her little pursed-mouth manner “This house is clean.” I felt like I’ve battled evil spirits to get Carol Anne back and my house is clean! And for now, I’m staying away from the damn light!

What’s next? For the next three weeks I still have to have my post-chemotherapy bloodwork. They still need to monitor to ensure I don’t get an infection after my last chemo. On April 11th I will meet with my oncologist to talk maintenance. They have great biological therapies now to help prevent recurrence. This will most likely require that I go into the oncology center for an occasionally infusion (IV) of Rituxan. This is not chemotherapy, and will not pack the side effects. It literally targets any lymphoma cells and beats them into submission. Getting through the first year is critical and my chances of long-term success increase with each passing year. I will also have regular PET scans. Robbie and I will also be making lifestyle changes to help ensure a long cancer free life. But I’m going to worry about the future tomorrow.

Tonight we are drinking champagne and celebrating my new lease on life. Thank you so much to all of you that have been so supportive. Every positive word was heard and appreciated more than you know even if I didn’t always respond – I will blame my chemo-induced fog.

Several people have asked if I will continue to blog. The answer is yes. I’m not done with “battle lymphoma” yet. I still need to get through this last chemotherapy, deal with the emotions of this experience, whine about my eyebrows, and figure out how this maintenance thing works. But right now, I’ve got to go. My champagne has sat for far too long.