My Annual Cancer Scan Results & Baby Update
Last week I finally hauled my assets to the hospital for my annual cancer CT scan. I was a bit late this year—like by six months! But I needed to push the limit. To stretch and spread my wings further. If all went well, perhaps my oncologist would give me more time between check-ups. A girl can dream. Plus, it’s been nine years! If I’m going to continue to live well with cancer (fingers crossed, green juice galore) then more time between scans would a major gift. In fact, listen up Santa: All I want for Christmas is a longer grace period. The vegan cookies and almond milk are waiting for you. Love, Kris.
So off we went. But wow did it feel different this year. Like an old shoe. Worn out but reasonably comfortable. No sharp edges. No tight swelling. Very little scan anxiety. That feeling alone was a great improvement. I guess I’m doing my personal work and practicing what I’m preaching! On the car ride we talked about movies and horses, our renovation, the beautiful wedding we attended the night before (we love you Ann and Andy), how funny Lola is and what we’d do if we won the lottery. Oh, and we also talked about kids. To me, this was the make it or break it scan. I’m not getting any younger (Well, actually I am—but my lady parts aren’t.) Where did the time go? Wait, I know. I was busy being a “young” woman on a mission to help myself and others. Poof! I lost a decade.
So there you have it, the backstory …
Now for the results: Solid. Stable. No growth. Holding firm. The tumors are still asleep. All good under KC’s hood.
Thank you baby Jesus Santa Elvis Buddha—the whole crew and especially me + my body. Thank you, me.
Before I get to my next point, I really want to revel in the good. Because it’s so easy to just check it off and move on. My oncologist reminded me that my disease can change at anytime and that we have been very blessed and lucky. I made a flippy comment about how he always says the same thing and can’t we just record his voice and play it once per year? Save the veins (mine get pissed) and the trouble. Ooh child, spanky time! “I never take your continued good health for granted. Though you live with a slow-moving cancer, it still can be deadly.” Got it. Ouch.
I am lucky, very happy and blessed. And I hear you, Dr. D., loud and clear. Cheers!
Now for the bummer: This time around my trusted oncologist wasn’t keen on the idea of having kids the good old-fashioned way. He gave us a brilliantly terrifying metaphor, and now I hate rocks.
It went something like this … Your health is like a rock. It’s balanced at the top of a mountain. If the hormones generated during pregnancy tip that rock so that it tumbles down the mountain, we can probably stop it at some point, somewhere along the tumble, but I don’t know if we can get it back up the mountain. That’s a lot to risk.
And yet, who’s to say. There’s no real evidence because there aren’t many cases to compare me to. In addition, there are other ways to become a parent (through adoption, surrogacy, miracles, etc.) or to more sweet animals or possibly just birthing books and beyond. No matter what, I’ll be creating and thoroughly embracing life. This unicorn will gallop.
And all that is why life is messy and brilliant, gorgeous and staggering, crazy and sexy. Remember the last line from my film? It still applies.
Thank you for the global hugs I constantly feel and sometimes fold into.
Peace and endless soul adventures,
P.S. I did get more time. I will get scanned every 1.5 years now. Cheers!