Normal is boring, boring is fabulous

I still remember us holding our breaths, my mom and me, as we waited for the oncologist to enter the room. We knew he or she (I had a team of 4-5 child oncologists at any given moment throughout my Leukemia treatment, whom I saw every day for nearly three years) was carrying the "receipt." The receipt was the quick recap of my blood draw from minutes ago. Every day during my intensive treatment (weekly chemos) I got pricked on the tip of my finger to get my blood drawn. The receipt told us the basics: white blood count, red blood count (hemoglobin) and platelets. If those basics looked OK, or the numbers were where they were supposed to be, I was probably OK. The treatment was working, or I hadn't relapsed. These receipts were what we waited for. The doctor would come in, our hearts pounding, breaths held, until .. "looks good." And then we'd breathe a sigh of relief and continue on.

Celebrating Mike and Denise in Austin, TX! Holly and Paul (top two on the left) are next, also getting married in Austin next April! 

We did this every day for three years together. And then every week. And then every month through high school. And then every year through college. And now, at 30 years old, as a mom and wife with a full-time job, I do it on my own, or with Sean. I get my blood drawn at the lab a few months before seeing my oncologist. And I wait for the "looks good." Or I call. And I wait to hear "looks normal." And I continue on.

The quarterly blood draws now don't have as much weight as those day-to-day receipts did. Do I still hold my breath? Of course. But being 18 years out and having had a blood cancer, I know my body. I don't know everything and I'm not a doctor, but I like to believe I don't put all my weight on these draws, that I put most of it on knowing my body and keeping up with my doctor's appointments. These draws aren't so scary when I'm seeing docs every few months and getting MRIs. They're not so scary when, as a full-time working mother of a toddler, I would be able to recognize if I wasn't OK. Or as a runner or cyclist or yogi, I'd be able to recognize if I couldn't get through my workout.
But I still hold my breath. That will never change.

Denise and Mike's wedding, 11/21 in Austin, TX

Today I made the call to get results from my latest draw. All normal. And Nov. 11's MRI was also normal. I held my breath. And then I thanked G-d and continued to breathe.
Next month I head to the NIH for my annual clinic: full body MRI, brain MRI, physical exam and blood draw. 

I know, right? ;)

For now I'm breathing. At the risk of sounding too cliche as Thanksgiving approaches, I am so thankful for a normal breast MRI and normal blood work.
Normal, my friends, may be boring, but in some cases, we want boring. We want it so badly. And when we get it, it's glorious!

Playing Noah's Ark with Adele before bedtime. This was the evening after my breast MRI. Hours earlier I'd called to get the report, which was "normal." :) I celebrated by snuggling with my pumpkin that night.