Three years, say wha??

We ( I blame Dad) didn't do a three year post.  July 3rd was diagnosis day, August somethin' was surgery day.  August somethin' else was Sutent day.  We were at the beach again in the midst of all those dates.  Dad and I were talking about what we should blog about, blah blah, nobody reads this anymore, you're un-interesting, I'm boring, nobody cares about your measly little mets, we gave this thing too much hype in the beginning, and now there's no drama to report on, and its all his fault we'll NEVER get picked up for a reality show.

Then Dad started coughing and sniffing his nose.  Then he lost his voice.  Then he fell asleep in a beach chair ( ok, not so abnormal).  Then he started having trouble catching his breath.  Then he went to bed and slept all day. Uh, Dad...you look like heyull.  Mom told me to go check on him.  I didn't want to be the one that found him Belushi style in the beach house.  Thought it would be hard to erase from my memory.  I think Sam went.  He said there was still movement, so he was not yet dead.

Siri and I made a diagnosis of bacterial pneumonia.  Baltz called in some Avelox.  Ironically, my BFF from forever and ever is a rep for Avelox.  She was at the beach too.  Her trunk in Wisconsin is full of Avelox.  She flew.   We got the drug anyway and all agreed that if he didn't improve by tomorrow, we'd have to take him to the hospital.  Again, he looked like heyull.  

 I am not a paid representative of Avelox, but I should be.  That shit WORKS.  Brought Dad back from the barely walking dead.  That was the most exciting thing that happened in the midst of the 3 year anniversary UNTIL my annual synchronized swimming performance with Sisterbaby.  We chose Neil Diamond this year.  It was incredible.  

Fast forward to this week...  Three month scans reveal "only minimal residual densities persist at the site of prior nodules....It is unclear if these simply represent scar or there is residual disease within these areas at this point."  

What?  Really?  That's so good.  So so so very good.  So very good.  I was at work when Dad called to tell me results.  I had some therapists in my office complaining about schedules, being impatient, looking to me to fix all the problems they're paid very well to fix.  I forgot is was scan time and almost didn't answer Dad's call because I was so busy.  Then I decided that there will be a day when I'll wish I could call him and won't be able to, so  I picked it up.  "Helleww?"

He didn't get straight to the point, saying things like "Well, Dr. Baltz just called."  and "He said that he thought I would want to hear" .  He was so cryptic that I started to regret my decision to answer the phone with so many people in my office looking at me.   That nervy feeling of vomit and dread was filling my guts.  Then he spilled the good news and it was great and we talked some details after that and then we hung up. I still had said two therapists staring at me; still waiting on me to fix their relatively insignificant problems and BOOM, I burst into tears.   It was SO effective.  I didn't mean to.  I really didn't.  And I really didn't know that train was coming.    They got wide eyed.  I am their boss.  I like to remain enigmatic.  And right there, I was losing it.    I don't think I sprayed snot on anyone, but I got to explain to them that yes, I was just fine, and yes, that phone call was good, very good news, and that suddenly their little scheduling problem didn't matter to me at all and if they could kindly turn and walk out of my office I'd appreciate.  

So very effective, a healthy perspective.

So very good.  If you had asked us three years ago, we would have wanted the mets completely gone. Now, we have new perspective.  It is good that they're still there, whether they are residual disease or residual scar;  the terrorists are tied up in our living room instead of lurking unseen in the back yard.  We can keep our eyes on them.  

Stay still mets....we're watchin' you.