When the CAT scan report said that the node in my neck was still abnormal (before the doctor explained it was scar tissue, not lymphoma) I felt as if I knew this narrative. It's the TV Disease movie. The plot is discovery of disease (normal person whose life is turned upside-down) followed by grim prognosis (okay, mine wasn't grim) followed by disease appears to respond to treatment (often experimental.) Then there has to be a crisis. I told myself that abnormal node was my crisis, and that it was a lot better than the alternatives; heart failure as a result of the adriamycin, say, or pneumonia, or discovery that the disease was resistent to chemo, or infection and sepsis. I told myself that 'It's not gone yet,' was a relatively inexpensive form of movie of the week crisis. I should be pleased.
But I am a lot more pleased to discover that this is a lousy narrative for suspense. Turns out, woman has disease, woman gets cured.
I'm so glad to be boring.
And I feel better than usual after chemo because my lung tests indicated that we should probably stop the bleomycin. (My long capacity is good, but my ability to take up oxygen is at 65% of expected. This will reverse itself with time, but no sense in making it worse.) So my chemos are shorter and I feel better after them. And the weather is beautiful today. The doctor would like me to do some light exercise. I plan to take the dogs for a fifteen minute walk. We could all use it.