Laughing

I am sitting here this grey morning and just laughing. In the last month I have been told so many things by medical professionals and other people concerned with my health that my head is spinning. I have been told to prepare for my death and make peace with God, to take new supplements, to get up and try to get my strength back, that I am unique in my disease process to the point now of them testing me for information on my genes, informed that a drug I took for chemo years ago might collapse my heart,  that in the last month I have managed to knock back the cancer by 30 points. I am spinning.

Right now there is no new growth showing in my lungs, spine, ribs and chest wall. It is still there but it is almost stopped. I am still stage 4, palliative and weaker but I am more than holding my own.

Tim got angry at the Doctors yesterday and wanted very detailed information regarding what is happening. He has been keeping careful track of what they have been telling me. He is hung up on the numbers.
He is pissed off that the information changes from specialist to specialist. And that the fall was so uncomfortable for me because of an overdose of an inappropriate medication. That they were just brushing off the harm they have done to me. He has lost his zen and calm way of talking to them.
His protective self has kicked in overtime.

I was just sitting there leaping on and off the table, spitting into tubes, being kindly molested by caring hands and realized that I have absolutely no control. That the news is good. That they tried and the ones that don't have faith in my ability to keep living don't have any idea who they are messing with.

I have things left to do, to see and people to meet. I will no longer allow the focus of my life to be this disease. It is simply part of me. Like my toe.

I am lucky. I have everything I need. My life has turned out to be a pretty good story. And I just might get another chapter or two.