I saw my oncologist today for my first post-op checkup.
I sat and waited in the waiting room for probably about 20 minutes—they were busy today—listening to the piped-in easy listening pop hits, and once again amused by the reality that my doctor's office is in a repurposed old mansion.
And very top-forty 40s hits were playing in the exam room, which fit more with the aura of polished gentility that this place possesses. I suppose, if you're going in for chemo treatments, having them done in the cozy comfort of a mansion would make them slightly more tolerable.
I read a few more pages in my book and then the MA came in to explain that Dr. W. would be in soon to check my incision sites and go over the final pathology report.
I read a bit more and tried not to fidget.
Dr. W. walked in about five minutes later. And the sweetest words I've heard since this particular adventure began were the first ones to come out of his mouth:
None. No little demon cells lurking to ruin my life and health. Just angry ones that would have blistered into demons had we not cut off their life support.
And I started texting people as soon as I left the building.
And I stopped at the store on the way home, because this...THIS was something worth celebrating.
I bought an ice cream cake for dessert tonight.
It was yummy.
Still sweeter than ice cream cake.
I'll probably be high on that news for a week!