The tumour markers in my blood have decreased to nearly half of what they were at my last appointment. The hormones are working.
The doctor I saw, one of those on my oncologist’s team, told me that they don’t know how long the hormones will continue to work but, of course, this bodes very well for me. I’ll come back in ten weeks, have another blood test, and we’ll go from there. So my life is measured out not in coffee spoons but in ten-week increments.
Good enough. I’ll take it.
As Chris and I were leaving, we ran into the oncologist herself, who was all smiles, too. She had seen my results, she said, and she was very pleased. But, she added, she was even more pleased to see me looking so well. I look great, she told me, and that’s as important as anything else.
Also good enough; I’ll take that, too.