Tuesday April 06, 2004: into the wind
Possibly one of the most beautiful phrases in the English language is "no signs of malignancy detected".
And that's what was on the pathology report, in bold letters, on that white paper. You don't have cancer, kid. Be happy. And I am.
Another beautiful phrase: "margins of the biopsy were free of dysplasia". Which means that my doctor got the entire leison.
It was CIS, or carcinoma in situ--precancerous cells, with a smattering of Type III dysplasia. I had my two-week followup from the LEEP yesterday, and I got to look at the results of my pathology report. The doctor (the fabulous Dr. McDermott) said, "This is a scary path report. Not terrifying, but scary." And, yes, it was. But she got the whole leison, I get to go back for gyn exam every three months for the next year, and in general I'm going to get to be watched like a hawk for a while, as they wait to see if that's going to be that or this is just the start of something else. The part that worries my doctor is that I'm young to have had CIS, and the leison developed so quickly, that she wants me watched very closely for the rest of the danger period.
On the whole, though, things have turned out. I've healed really fabulously, and I'm back in the swing of things again, and everything's more or less turned out. (And, yes, pelvic rest was intensely irritating. I've been making up for lost time, though. And that is all you need to know about that.)
I come bumping up against my own mortality all the time. This is just one more of those cases.
I love spring in Seattle. Right about the equinox, spring arrived with gifts of lovely mild days and warmth and sunshine. I'm back to running outside now, and I'm feeling really good at the moment.
Laura remarked the other day that this past winter was the best one I've had that she's been around for. And it has been, probably the best one since I left California twelve years ago. Okay, February sucked, but February *always* sucks, and I had the LEEP to worry about. With the return of the sunlight, though, I am feeling once again happy and shiny.
A couple of weekends ago, we worked on Laura and Bryan's garden. We borrowed a rototiller and Storm's truck, and bought a bunch of stuff and went to town on the garden. Interestingly, say "gardening" and a lot of people's ears perk up; we had help in the form of Ryan and Graham. Ryan hacked out the Bush From Hell, and Graham rototilled for us. After he was done, we put down some stepping stones (to help with weeding), and planted herbs and lettuce. Bryan injured himself planting trees (cut himself with the knife he was using to cut the pots off the trees), but otherwise the day was really lovely.
I found myself gazing at the freshly rototilled earth with intense desire. Laura asked me something, I forget exactly what, and I said, "No, actually, I'm thinking about taking all my clothes off and rolling around in the dirt."
There's just something about spring, and how wonderful everything smells.
(And here is a picture of me stomping on a paver to get it stable.)
So, a few days ago, I got an excited email from Ragged Robin, telling me that she was getting married. It took us a few days to actually manage to talk to each other on the phone, but when we did she just sounded so happy. I listened to her talk about how wonderful things are for her, and her new job, and everyhting, and I told ehr about the niftiness that my life encloses. We don't get to talk on the phone much, and it was very nifty to actually get to chat with her for a while.
And there's one more very exciting thing.
She asked me to be the officiant!
I am totally bouncing about this, so very very excited! The wedding's going to be in April, in Iowa. More details as they happen.
When I got Juniper ten years ago this fall, he was the tiniest scrap of a thing. I could hold him in one hand, and he was just this fluffy little puff of grey and white fur and big blue eyes.
When the shelter people gave him to me, they gave me a sample of some vitamins for him. Juniper *loved* these vitamins. He was all about treats in general, but he absolutely adored the vitamins. He always got excited when he heard the plastic bottle rattle, because he knew he was about to get a treat.
In time, he extended this to all pill bottles. For about five years after I ran out of those vitamins, Juniper would come running every time he heard one of *my* pill bottles rattling, just in case it was for him and not me. In his extremely tiny but very cute little brain, pill bottle has become associated permanently with tasty.
So when I was at the vet with Juniper, the vet said his potassium was a little bit low, and they wanted to try supplementing it. So they gave me some samples of these potassium tablets, and said, "If he won't take them, don't worry, his potassium's not too low. If he'll take them, great."
Just now, I remembered the tablets, and got one out for him.
The verdict?
He loves them.
And he was gazing adoringly at the pill bottle they came in.
Weird cat.
Mostly, things are just humming along over here. I have Friday off, which i'm looking forward to. Long weekends are the best.
I'm so lucky. Incredibly so. So many people, so much love, so much light.
And that's what was on the pathology report, in bold letters, on that white paper. You don't have cancer, kid. Be happy. And I am.
Another beautiful phrase: "margins of the biopsy were free of dysplasia". Which means that my doctor got the entire leison.
It was CIS, or carcinoma in situ--precancerous cells, with a smattering of Type III dysplasia. I had my two-week followup from the LEEP yesterday, and I got to look at the results of my pathology report. The doctor (the fabulous Dr. McDermott) said, "This is a scary path report. Not terrifying, but scary." And, yes, it was. But she got the whole leison, I get to go back for gyn exam every three months for the next year, and in general I'm going to get to be watched like a hawk for a while, as they wait to see if that's going to be that or this is just the start of something else. The part that worries my doctor is that I'm young to have had CIS, and the leison developed so quickly, that she wants me watched very closely for the rest of the danger period.
On the whole, though, things have turned out. I've healed really fabulously, and I'm back in the swing of things again, and everything's more or less turned out. (And, yes, pelvic rest was intensely irritating. I've been making up for lost time, though. And that is all you need to know about that.)
I come bumping up against my own mortality all the time. This is just one more of those cases.
I love spring in Seattle. Right about the equinox, spring arrived with gifts of lovely mild days and warmth and sunshine. I'm back to running outside now, and I'm feeling really good at the moment.
Laura remarked the other day that this past winter was the best one I've had that she's been around for. And it has been, probably the best one since I left California twelve years ago. Okay, February sucked, but February *always* sucks, and I had the LEEP to worry about. With the return of the sunlight, though, I am feeling once again happy and shiny.
A couple of weekends ago, we worked on Laura and Bryan's garden. We borrowed a rototiller and Storm's truck, and bought a bunch of stuff and went to town on the garden. Interestingly, say "gardening" and a lot of people's ears perk up; we had help in the form of Ryan and Graham. Ryan hacked out the Bush From Hell, and Graham rototilled for us. After he was done, we put down some stepping stones (to help with weeding), and planted herbs and lettuce. Bryan injured himself planting trees (cut himself with the knife he was using to cut the pots off the trees), but otherwise the day was really lovely.
I found myself gazing at the freshly rototilled earth with intense desire. Laura asked me something, I forget exactly what, and I said, "No, actually, I'm thinking about taking all my clothes off and rolling around in the dirt."
There's just something about spring, and how wonderful everything smells.
(And here is a picture of me stomping on a paver to get it stable.)
So, a few days ago, I got an excited email from Ragged Robin, telling me that she was getting married. It took us a few days to actually manage to talk to each other on the phone, but when we did she just sounded so happy. I listened to her talk about how wonderful things are for her, and her new job, and everyhting, and I told ehr about the niftiness that my life encloses. We don't get to talk on the phone much, and it was very nifty to actually get to chat with her for a while.
And there's one more very exciting thing.
She asked me to be the officiant!
I am totally bouncing about this, so very very excited! The wedding's going to be in April, in Iowa. More details as they happen.
When I got Juniper ten years ago this fall, he was the tiniest scrap of a thing. I could hold him in one hand, and he was just this fluffy little puff of grey and white fur and big blue eyes.
When the shelter people gave him to me, they gave me a sample of some vitamins for him. Juniper *loved* these vitamins. He was all about treats in general, but he absolutely adored the vitamins. He always got excited when he heard the plastic bottle rattle, because he knew he was about to get a treat.
In time, he extended this to all pill bottles. For about five years after I ran out of those vitamins, Juniper would come running every time he heard one of *my* pill bottles rattling, just in case it was for him and not me. In his extremely tiny but very cute little brain, pill bottle has become associated permanently with tasty.
So when I was at the vet with Juniper, the vet said his potassium was a little bit low, and they wanted to try supplementing it. So they gave me some samples of these potassium tablets, and said, "If he won't take them, don't worry, his potassium's not too low. If he'll take them, great."
Just now, I remembered the tablets, and got one out for him.
The verdict?
He loves them.
And he was gazing adoringly at the pill bottle they came in.
Weird cat.
Mostly, things are just humming along over here. I have Friday off, which i'm looking forward to. Long weekends are the best.
I'm so lucky. Incredibly so. So many people, so much love, so much light.
