Being on the receiving end of a “congratulations” always feels pretty good, but it was especially meaningful as my oncologist wrapped-up our appointment yesterday.
We reviewed the results of my CT scan, MRI and a bunch of other tests done to assess whether the hefty doses of radiation and chemotherapy I’ve endured since last September have successfully treated my Stage 3B colorectal cancer.
It seems like that’s the case.
If that sounds vague or guarded, it’s because doctors - especially those who work in oncology and spend their lives trying to outwit cancer - tend to speak in very cautious terms. They’ve told me that the treatment has resulted in a “Complete Response/Near Complete Response” and that my tumor is gone. They also can’t find any metastasized cancer in the usual places - my lymph nodes or lungs. Still, they don’t say that there’s no cancer - only that there’s “No Evidence of Disease.”
I’ll take it.
No more radiation. No more chemo. No surgery.
I suppose there could always be some errant cancer cells lurking around somewhere and given the “scanxiety” that accompanies quarterly follow-up tests, the battle isn’t entirely over, but according to my doctors, I once again kicked cancer’s ass.
I’ll do it again if need be, but in the meantime, I remain so very grateful for my good health, for all of those who checked-in, prayed and pulled for me, and I’m especially thankful to have more opportunities to change the world.
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