That darn desmoid...

While pregnant I enjoyed a lovely little break from thinking about that blasted dang tumor thing. Pregnancy = no CT scans = not even worrying about it.

I always prefer not thinking about stressful crappiness.

This morning I had to have my postpartum follow up scan. It's been a year since my last scan (previously I'd had them every 3 months for the prior 2 years). I was a little nervous... actually, I was a little angry that I had to start thinking about it again. In fact, just before I went to sleep last night I actually got really cranky and angry at it (and at that sick, nasty contrast goo I had to choke down. Not a fan.).

A tumor would totally ruin the holidays, you know?

And heck if I wanted to go through another surgery recovery from, well, heck again.
Or trying some possibly-helpful-but-we're-not-sure chemo. Fun!

CT scan went smoothly and the iodine running like fire through my veins didn't even ruin my day. And, I got to bottle feed Ike all day - it's so very, very convenient to have a happy well fed baby all day (read: napped soundly all day long). And, since I wouldn't be able to pick up my report until Monday morning --- no worrying about stressful crappiness all weekend.

Then, this afternoon I got a call from the clinic. It was my oncologist's assistant. Oh crap. She's never called me before. While my mind was running through a string of new phrases I learned at book club (kidding!) I realized she was saying she just wanted to let me know that everything came back normal. HUH? I was totally confused. It took a second. I had a baby, and my tumor didn't come back. 2 years, 9 months tumor free--- put that 90% recurrence rate in your pipe and smoke it.

I'm meeting with oncologist guy on Wednesday to go over my tumor-free results. I'm hoping he will just tell me that I can be on the yearly scan plan (and that the kidney stone they saw growing awhile back has completely vanished) but in the meantime I'm just going to enjoy my tumor-free weekend.