In Which the News Is In and It's All Good

Yesterday was my post op visit with my surgeon, in which we also finally got back the results from pathology. The short answer to all the most pertinent questions is: no more cancer found in the breast tissue the pathologist tested. And no cancer found in the sentinel lymph node they removed. Which means I don't have cancer any more.

Which is all good news to say the least.

I won't have to have radiation. I almost certainly won't have to have chemo. There might be another test to run, getting the oncotype of the tumor itself, which technically could have a finding that warrants more treatment. So there are still a couple of things to figure out, but even I in all my caution don't feel too much like I'm tempting the nonexistent-fates-of-the-most-superstitious-people-on-earth (i.e. those who do or have worked in hospitals of which I am one I can't help it) to say that it is likely that this cancer is dealt with and gone.

Obviously we are super happy and celebrating this! There is a sense of relief that is slowly seeping its way in moment to moment to life, even while I keep working to rest and let my body heal from surgery, to trouble shoot recovery bits here and there, and to rest some more.

And, at the same time, I think for me (and somewhat for Michael too), we are taking a while to catch up with the news in our hearts. As has this whole ordeal, it all feels a little surreal and hard to take in. I am normally a person who likes a good celebration. I can hoot and holler with the best of them. But my own spirit feels a little cautious right now. Because it's new. Because I, for lots of reasons, have been cautious all along the way about the string of "good news about the bad news" I've been getting consistently from MDs. "Yes, it's cancer. But we really think this is highly treatable you are going to be fine." I've believed that, but with some dose of realistic caution and see-above-superstitious fear that we aren't going to assume that things are going to go well. I am, in the end, not the brightest shiniest optimist in the world, particularly when I cast a gaze on myself. (Never fear: for you I will cheerlead and hoot and holler!) And I have had a number of people close to me whose cancer stories did not stay neat and tidy. And I have seen a lot of bad stuff over the years (professional hazard). My trust level for medical prognostication isn't, shall we say, isn't tip top, and I know all too well that shit happens all the time.

Which is all to say, feeling happy and relieved but in a slow, tentative way over here. A really wise friend asked me last night, "have you felt like your body has taken in the good news? Or is it still feeling tightness and apprehension?" I think maybe like my nervy, stiff left shoulder and arm it's going to take a little time to stretch out and relax and adjust. But stretching out and relaxing and adjusting sounds pretty good right now.

There will be more to come. Next up (because I have learned with cancer there is always a next step/next thing/next round of decisions) (which = life too) (cue President Bartlett, but come on internet why isn't there a better "what's next?" GIF?) I will be talking with my medical oncologist about endocrine therapy, which will not be fun, but is preventative and likely needed. But that's all for another day.

For now we will just settle into good news and rest and some celebrating too.