Life (especially with kids) sure has a way of helping you forget about some of the more unpleasant things in the world. Cancer seems almost like a distant memory now that I’m home. My days have been filled with hugs and giggles and marble run engineering. If it weren’t for the incisions and my short hair, I might even be able to forget about the angiosarcoma and the last eight months altogether.

So, results:

My skin infection post-surgery seems to be gone. The culture from the fluid removed near the chest wall showed Corynebacterium tuberculostearicum. That sounds a lot scarier than it actually is. From what I’ve read, it is a common skin flora; it may have gotten into the incisions or the wounds during surgery. Thankfully, I was already on an antibiotic that would treat it.

The ultrasound of my abdomen showed no lesions or evidence of metastases.  My spleen, gall bladder and kidneys all looked healthy or “unremarkable” as the medical community likes to say. My liver, on the other hand, despite being clear of disease, shows mild diffuse hepatic steatosis. In non-medical speak, that is fatty liver disease. It can be caused by lots of different things (medication, alcohol, high cholesterol, etc) and about 25% of the population has it. There’s nothing that can really be done to treat it and it sometimes reverses itself. We haven’t spoken to the team about it yet but I imagine we will just monitor it throughout the next phase of chemotherapy. That fact that the radiologist classified it as mild is a good sign so I’m going to allow myself to breathe a sigh of relief.

Yesterday, Caleb and I met with my local oncologist to discuss next steps and go over the regimen. We made sure to let her know about the liver issue and discuss potential side effects and their remedies. I haven’t seen her since January but I was reminded of how much I like her. She’s knowledgeable and willing to do whatever we or Dr. Ravi ask/need of her. I will have a check-in appointment with her before each chemo cycle and they will monitor my blood levels before each infusion. It sounds like this one may have a similar effect on my levels (which could mean possible transfusions) but maybe not quite as severe.

We head back to Texas in a week and a half to follow up with the surgeon and oncologist. I’m hoping to get clearance to begin chemo so I can start knocking out this next (very long) phase. If all goes well, my start date will be 7/18 (or sooner if they can fit me in).

My only wish for this summer is that we can hopefully fit some camping in between my infusion days! So keep sending those good thoughts and prayers!

And, if you can, when you’re having a bad day, try to let yourself focus on something in your life that is simply good. The smile on your partner’s face. Your child’s laugh. The joy your dog shows just because you came home. The purr of your cat. The warmth of the sunshine. The coolness of the breeze. The calming pitter patter of the rain. The gentle roll of thunder. The sweet song of the bird outside your window.

Even on the worst days, we can all find something to quiet our mind and fill our heart. The smallest thing can make the biggest difference in overcoming our hardships. You just have to figure out what that small thing is for you. It’s okay to have bad moments as long as you don’t let them overpower your good ones.

Much love to you all and happy summer!