Wednesday, August 27, 2008

one year PET scan

Early this morning, I had my one year PET scan. Five months have passed since I had the last one. I'm not scheduled to see Dr. C-M until September 8th, but I plan to call his office on Tuesday for the results.

In preparing for today's PET - just days after celebrating my one year post-transplant anniversary - I have paused a few times wondering about the results of the test. Overall, my recovery has gone amazing well, but this scan could change all that in an instant. It's this stark reminder of my impermanence and the still long, difficult, and uncertain road ahead that has made me take a cautious pause during the past few days. Until a few days ago, I hadn't thought at all really about the possibility of yet another relapse, even though of course this has always been a possibility. It's a healthy sign, I suppose, that for the past many months the frightful thoughts of such dreadful news haven't come across my mind. As with many cancer survivors, however, routine scans have a way of reawakening seemingly buried fears. For me, it's especially jarring because this scan comes in the immediate wake of my transplant anniversary, a day of celebration, remembrance, and renewed hope.

Yet, as with my fortuitous encounter with Bernard two weeks ago, the timely thoughtfulness of someone else helped to lift me up in this moment of concern. A few days ago, I received a lovely, poignant greeting card from my Auntie Emily. The eloquent words, I found, hit the spot. They're just what I needed.

"The Oak Tree"

A mighty wind blew night and day.
It stole the oak tree's leaves away,
Then snapped its boughs

and pulled its bark

until the oak was tired and stark.

But still the oak tree held its ground

while other trees fell all around. . .

The weary wind gave up and spoke,

"How can you still be standing, Oak?"

The oak tree said, "I know that you

can break each branch of mine in two,

carry every leaf away,
shake my limbs, and make me sway.
But I have roots stretched in the earth,

growing stronger since my birth.
You'll never touch them, for you see,
they are the deepest part of me.

Until today, I wasn't sure

of just how much I could endure.

But now I've found, with thanks to you,

I'm stronger than I ever knew."


Comment Blogger Kelly Kane said...

Thinking good thoughts for your results next week!


10:14 PM  
Comment Blogger laulausmamma said...

Sending positive vibes to our brave and strong prizefighter that your scans will be B O R I N G !!


12:26 AM  
Comment Blogger Scott said...

Love the poem. Here's to uneventful results.

Be well.


11:10 PM  
Comment Blogger Duane said...

I agree, Scott. Here's to uneventful events. ;)

11:40 AM  

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