Has it really been Eight Months?

It's been a while since I've jotted down my thoughts. It's been 8 months since surgery and 6 months since immunotherapy began. 

I've got be honest - the pain and discomfort of surgery is a distant memory. The every three week poking and prodding (blood work and infusion) is just matter of fact. I look at it as getting to take a day off work every three weeks. Heck, even the rash and itching is normal now. Where is my Triamcinolone?

It's a little tragic - I'm taking daily life for granted again. Work goes Monday through Friday. Poker goes Friday and Saturday (okay, sometimes Sunday) nights. Sunday is for visiting mom, lamenting the weekend and psyching myself for another Monday morning. 

On the other hand, there are times of stress and terror. Time between a CT scan and the doctor's call is especially unnerving. There's always some doubt for the day or two after a CT. An old running buddy who is a survivor mentioned to be that there will always be some stress after a CT scan. At the time I didn't understand. I do now. Then there are the times that I am sooooo exhausted in the evenings that I can barely hold my eyes open. Is it just a long day, or it there something else going on? I can't help but wonder sometimes.

So  yes. I'm a survivor and I'm grateful for that. I just need to remember that.

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