Black and White

Mood: thankful



My most hated nickname from my family is Drama Queen. I HATE that nickname more than any of the others, and my dad has an affinity for calling me Poopstain so I think that is saying quite a lot. The reason that I hate it is because, well, it's true. And I hate this about myself. I live my life in extremes, in black or white. I am forever disappointed that life is a series of confusing, convoluted, nebulous events rather than concrete absolutes

Today is one of those days where I am just so disgusted by myself and my need for things to be 100% one way or the other. I really do wish that I could change, but time and again I find myself disappointed over unclear or indirect answers.

Today Jeff, Malcolm and I headed to the oncologist for his post chemotherapy CT scan. A little over three hours after arriving at the hospital we arrived at our moment of truth. Were we facing a happy, healthy holiday season? Or another battle for Jeff's life?

I wanted so, so badly to hear that Jeff is 100% in remission and is healthy and has kicked cancer's ass. I really did want to hear that.

And, for the most part, that is what we heard. Thank God that Jeff is healthy! The oncologist declared Jeff to be in remission, but, there are still spots visible on the CT scan. They do not appear cancerous, and it is unlikely that these spots are, however the oncologist just is not sure what they are. He says that he does not believe them to be cancer. A needle biopsy is out of the question due to the position of these spots; they are located too close to blood vessels. If a biopsy is to be done it would be invasive surgery removing the mass and a chunk of lung.

So, while we got tremendous news today, is yet one more shade of gray in a world that I so wish was black and white. The poetic justice of the CT scan images is too much, really. It is the white and black that are normal. The gray masses are the unknown, the threats, the unanswered questions. 

I am truly thankful that Jeff is healthy and the smile on his face once he heard the news...I haven't seen one like that in months. I cannot say how relieved I am to know that all of his heartache and physical pain from chemotherapy has resulted in his health once again. Yet, I cannot get these masses off of my mind. I know I am in for a long holiday season because I am a drama queen and I worry about everything. Cancer continues to humble me and I continue to learn and grow because of it. 

Now we play a waiting game again, and on top of being dramatic I am eternally impatient. In January Jeff returns to the oncologist for another CT scan and more blood work. If the masses are gone, we are totally in the clear. If they are not, we are facing a bone marrow transplant.

Thursday, when we sit down to eat I know I will not be without worry or anxiety, because that is just who I am. But, I will be thankful that my husband is alive. I will be thankful that Malcolm has a father with many years of life and love ahead of him. And I will be thankful to bear witness that God has carried us through this.