Relief

My oncologist, whom I adore, emailed me over the weekend.

I don't have cancer.

To say this is a relief would be like saying that to have one's arm torn off by a grizzly might hurt.  There are really no words to describe the sense of elation that comes with believing that I have another shot at life.  Every year, my appointment sends me spinning in this way; I'm just glad that now I only go a little crazy around cancer appointment time, and not all day every day as the first several years went.  (It's hard to forget cancer with scare after scare, surgery after surgery.)

I also got good news - well, I choose to view it as good news.  My thyroid is WAY off, and I'm extremely hypothyroid.  Why is this good news?  Because it explains my fatigue and general sluggishness this past month, and because there is a simple fix.  (I take a synthetic thyroid drug because mine has been "off" for years, and occassionally I need to alter the dosage.  It appears that now I need to alter the dosage immensely, but with that simple alteration I should feel better very quickly.)

I have felt like I am just slogging lately, and the fact that my PollyAnna brain went as crazy as it did on the way to my oncology center is proof that I'm just not myself.

I'm going to be okay.

Hallelujah.