One year ago today I awoke quite early to one of the most gorgeous June days. I got dressed, packed a bag, and drove to my mother’s house. Once there, I hurriedly ran in the door, she gave me a blessing, I gave her a quick kiss, and I was off with my sister. It was a quick half-mile to the hospital where I was going to have that nasty lump removed.

I had no idea where that journey would take me. On July 1 when I went in for my post op check, it was almost surreal hearing him say, “Well, we got some bad news on the pathology report.” My favorite surgeon could hardly maintain eye contact with me. I paused and asked what was next, remaining silent while he described the process I would follow. As he tried to make a quick escape and hand me off to his assistant to secure the referrals, I started asking questions. Seeing that he was clear of any obvious emotional distress from me at the moment, he went into teacher mode explaining things simply and with all the passion that drew him to his field.

I have learned so much in the last year, but mainly I have learned about hope. Today was my sixth month check-up with the oncologist. These last two weeks I have worried and worried about things and had all sorts of tests. I have had pictures taken and scanning devices nearly everywhere in/on my body. As I walked into the oncology office, it was as though the cloud lifted. It was the first time they had all seen me with hair and without my hat. Why everyone loves this hair style, I will never know. It was nice to go into a doctor's office and have every staff member comment on how healthy I look. There's a first for me! Even though I was scared as hell the first time I went into that office, I left feeling hopeful that day. No matter what has happened there over the last year, that feeling of hope has never changed. Not even today on my cancerversary.

All my labs came back perfect. All tests/scans/x-rays came back negative.

YTotally normalY

My sixth month check up was very, very good. What more could I ask?