You May Now Resume Your Regularly Scheduled Life

"Mr. Dixon- I am happy to report that there is nothing of note in your head".

That Dr. Hanna- he cracks himself up.

But we all laugh- every single time. Out of relief, out of joy, and just because it IS funny.

Dr. Hanna commented as he always does on the very coolness of Ward's Hawaiian shirts- in front of the student teachers- "How can you not comment? I mean, LOOK AT HIM!"

Then he thought a minute, consulted the chart and said, "You've been cancer-free for 4 years now...how about we move to yearly scans?"

Which is very very good.

Dr. Bruel, the pain management doctor said, "Boy, everything looks good- the graft looks great and *consulting the chart* since it's been almost 2 years..."

SHHHHH!

I cut him off sharply.

Puzzled, he tried again.

"Since it's been almost 2 years since..."

SHHHHHH!!!

Louder and not as politely.

He stopped and looked at me.

I told him the LAST graft (the SECOND graft) had looked great for 2 years...and 3 months.

And then he understood.

We're so very thankful that Ward is cancer-free, and we credit Dr. Hanna's brilliance for that.

But we won't rest easy about the graft for another (?) year (?) or so, if ever. We'll always be watching the edges, scrutinizing every fleck of dirt, every inadvertent scratch, every teensy mosquito bite for the unthinkable.

That tiny. Little. Almost-not-there. Hole that means the graft is compromised.

Not thinking about the unthinkable = Easier said than done.

I'd like to think that even if our lives had been perfect without a cloud in the sky we'd be grateful for the lives we lead. But I guess we'll never know.

I do know because of...everything we tend to cling to each other a little more closely, love our surroundings a little more fiercely and never take a single good thing for granted.

Or a single minute.

Not a one of us would ever even consider uttering "I'm bored".

Because life is too damn short. No matter how long it lasts.