"It's amazing how y'all handle adversity," our Cancer Specialist Oncologist begins the Zoom appointment.
Sarah and I don't expect this but we find ourselves pridefully smiling and nodding.
"You've crafted what works for your life and I support this decision," he beams.
Sarah and I feel affirmed.
"How is Che?" Dr. Starr asks, and we tell him when our foster puppy Raven died, she dealt with it firsthand, and asked at one point, "Is Dad going to be this stiff when he's dead?"
"Wait!" he says, stifling his laughter, "you foster puppies?"
Sarah explains it's a great distraction to cancer and keeps us focused on "Life".
"Remarkable," he mumbles, jotting notes.
"Where's the next trip?" he asks, resumes the examination.
"We're booked on a cruise to tiny Caribbean islands," we gleefully answer.
"Well," he summarizes, "this is working so well, why don't we talk again in several weeks?"
I nod that we're continuing no treatment at this time.
"Unless you need me," he quickly adds. "If you need me, call anytime."
Hanging up, we look at each other.
"It's funny," Sarah thoughtfully says, "that we really didn't talk about the cancer's progression at all."
Shrugging my shoulders, I say nothing.
The room is quiet for several moments as we're each lost in our thoughts and emotions.
"We should celebrate," Sarah finally smiles.
In no time, we're in a favorite local haunt, enjoying the Hell out of ourselves, laughing, making plans for the future.
That's what our cancer specialist oncologist prescribes anyway, so this celebration goes on for a bit longer.
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I'm dying as happily as I can, but I think I can to better.
See how by clicking the link this link
https://gofund.me/ffda4f4b
Thank you!
