So I met one of the doctors in the family practice we'll be using (or hopefully NOT using...stay healthy, Jahners!). I was supposed to see the female doc (it's a husband and wife practice) but she got tied up at the hospital. One of the goals of my appointment was to get a pap and pelvic, but I decided I'd rather have a woman for that. If he wanted to examine my ass, yeah, sure, whatever. Lots of people have seen my ass. But we did end up talking about my other reason for the appointment, which was to be directed to an oncologist. He did have one in mind to recommend. We talked a little about my experience and I started to get emotional. Then he asked me about the kids and I lost it.

He handed me the kleenex and said some comforting words and then offered to pray for me. I always appreciate positive thoughts and prayers, so that was nice.

The last thing I expected to do was get emotional at this point. I mean, I'm freaking DONE, right? I guess there will be a scan here and there, and random appointments to see the oncologist. It seems the feelings one has during cancer treatment linger after it's all done. I don't know why I thought they wouldn't. And how ironic, today I threw out the rest of my prozac prescription.

Overall, I think I'm okay. The whole doctor's office thing was like an unwanted flashback. I haven't seen a doctor (aside from a couple wound care check ups) since the surgeon removed the port. I don't know.

Anyway I'll be going back for the pap and pelvic with the lady doctor this weekend. Fun, fun. I'm a little nervous about sticking anything but dialators up there, but I'm sure it will be fine.

I did yoga today. I know, I know, what's the big fuckin' deal? I haven't done yoga since January 5th, 2010, the day before my surgery. Wait...I might have done it the morning of my surgery. I can't remember. Anyway, it's been a long time.

It's been a long time for many reasons. Some of them physical, some of them mental. Physically, the ass wound kept me from doing a whole lot of things. I'm almost completely pain free now (yay!!), but for the longest freaking time the pain kept me from doing much of anything. Mentally, yoga was something I did to center myself, to calm down, to relax. Doing the yoga DVD brings back a lot of memories and thoughts I had during treatment. I don't like it. I don't like to think a lot about treatment, about how hard I had to fight. Maybe I need to switch to a different DVD?

At any rate, it felt good. I'm soooooooo inflexible though. Yikes. The nice lady on the DVD keeps telling me that I should focus on the here and now. Don't worry about what I used to do. It's important for me to hear that. When I'm working with a post cancer body, I get frustrated because I'm not at the point I was. It will happen though, I think. I'll get stronger, I'll be able to do all the things I used to do and then some.

I was talking to some friends about my experience, and they were shocked that it hasn't even been a full year since diagnosis. All the things that happened took place in the span of nine months. It is shocking, when I think about it. How did all that happen in such a short time? It really is overwhelming at times, when it all comes rushing into my head.

And now what? Well, I'll be seeing a family doctor on Wednesday. Hopefully she will be awesome, and will have the hook up to an awesome oncologist. One of these days I should go find the wound care nurses for my ass wound. Probably a quickie CT scan in the fall as well as a colonoscopy. So the adventure isn't over, it's just sort of in limbo right now.

How am I? I'm hanging in there. I take no pills except B12 and vitamin D. That's right, people. No pain pills. No sleeping pills. No prozac. It feels wonderful to NOT need all those pills. I don't think about cancer very much, only sometimes. Life is good.

Cancer, you are not fair

Seriously, why don't murderers and child molesters and puppy kickers get cancer? Why do mothers, daughters, granddaughters, fathers, sons, grandfathers...why do they have to draw the cancer card out of the deck of life? It makes no sense. Why does this happen to good people? Why does it happen to people who are helping others, who are raising children, people this world really needs.

I'm not wishing cancer on ANYONE, by the way. I wouldn't. Not on my worst enemy. Not on anyone. It's just not fair that a mother of children would have to hear the words, "You have cancer."

I wish I could say that I'm not scared for myself anymore. I wish I could say that it's all behind me and I'll just forget about it. Sadly, I can't. There's always that nagging in the very back of my mind, telling me that maybe my liver has spots. Maybe something got into one of my lungs. Please don't try to tell me it won't happen. I *know* the odds are on my side with recurrance. I KNOW that. Knowing doesn't help my mind not go there.

Could I even do more chemo? Could I deal with another surgery? I hope I never have to be tested that way.

Big hugs to my sisters and brothers in cancer. It seems we all could use a big hug today.