The nurse called with the news just a few minutes ago. My CA125is holding steady at 24.2 (the exact number it was in January). I am not going to lie. I've been fairly miserable the last 24 hours. I held up well yesterday during the morning, the drive to Nashville, the grocery shopping trip. I called my friend Kathy to keep me distracted while I waited when my podcast was no longer distracting enough. Dr. C was on time; the lab was quick. I was in an out of Vanderbilt in about 90 minutes, which is a definite record.
And then I fell apart. I really needed a good cry. Still kind of do, although it might be a happy cry today.
The bad news I referenced yesterday? Turns out it was just a miscommunication. The nurse wasn't clear when she called with test results back in early February. And, to be fair, I was on pain medication after my tonsillectomy so I probably didn't ask the right questions.
Dr. C is quick to remind me that there is still cancer in my body. In fact, she described my left pelvic area as lumpy (isn't that a thrilling word?). But for now, everything is stable and I am doing as well as we could possibly hope.
In between being accosted at Aldi's grocery store for money by a homeless man and my trip to Vanderbilt, I stopped at my favorite hipster coffee spot. Barista Parlor is way out of my league, as evidenced yesterday by 2 things. Number 1, the person behind me in line had a total bill of $161. Number 2, I saw my first man in rolled up skinny jeans. As in, man capris.
I do not know why taking a selfie in Vanderbilt's bathroom has become a "thing" for me, but it has.
I will now proceed to forget about cancer until July 30.