It’s Because I Wore My Lucky Shirt

The shirt in question is navy blue. In plain white letters it says, ‘I’m making cancer my bitch.’ I wear it a lot. I always wear it to my blood tests, and I wear it to my appointments with the oncologist. So now, of course,  it’s my lucky shirt.

The level of cancer has fallen a little more. My blood tests are perfect. My very straightforward, down-to-earth oncologist was almost giddy.

So it’s official––I’m kicking cancer’s ragged manky ass.

I’m kicking it so hard, in fact, that I won’t be seeing my oncologist again till the end of February. The interval has been extended to every sixteen weeks. I can now buy green bananas for a month longer than I used to.

No, I’m not in remission. I still have cancer…but cancer doesn’t have me.

Advertisements

36 thoughts on “It’s Because I Wore My Lucky Shirt

  1. You go, girl!

    (sent from Sherry Gottlieb’s iPad; please excuse typos and autocorrect absurdities)

    >

  2. And straight from the middle of the US: YEEHAWWWWW! (I knew it’d be good news, I just knew it!) Congrats and enjoy those bananas!!!
    *dancing a jig in Omaha*

  3. You are my hero *and* my inspiration. I am reading this (and your FB posts) on my phone, sitting on a gurney in the recovery room of my VA hospital. Just experienced my first biopsy.
    As I take my first-ish steps on this mostly unknown paths, I have scouting reports from the likes of you to remind me “Here may be Dragons, but they CAN have their *sses kicked!!”
    Thank you.

    • Oh, Lysander! I’ve only just seen this (I’ve been in a state of advanced collapse). Please keep me posted on your results and progress. I want to know whatever you’re comfortable telling me.

  4. I wonder if you can a) rent out a lucky shirt, b) if they’re person-specific, or c) if there’s a reservoir that can be exhausted. I’m leaning towards “b.”

  5. Yay, Pat! Wish I’d joined the papparazzi clambering over one another to get a picture of you that day, outside the Covent Garden tube station, in your snazzy suglasses, glamour tight, and go-to-hell lucky shirt. Just another Cadigan Moment.

    • Thank you so much! And my apologies for my tardy reply. I appreciate everyone who takes a few moments to leave me some good words. I’ve been in Deadline Hell and I’m a little at sixes and sevens. I would also like to say that ‘cancer-keister-kicking’ is my new favourite example of conversational alliteration.

    • Thank you so much!

      And my apologies for not responding for ten days. I’ve been in the depths of Deadline Hell. Fortunately, the cats dug me out.

      Anyway, thank you for your good words. They mean a lot.

    • Okay, I apparently was so deep in Deadline Hell, I actually lost my memory. Duh.

      But really, your kind words mean a lot. Even when I cannot brain becuz I haz Teh Dumb.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s