We’re still waiting for results of the CT scans. We made it through the weekend — the rainy, stressful, anxiety-sodden weekend. Friday was Complete Meltdown Day, as if there’s anything productive about sobbing on my bed and asking my husband (and the universe) “Why does it have to be this hard??” Neither of them gave me a satisfactory answer.
Saturday was Exhausted and Depressed Day, but by Sunday we had kind of found our groove of Denial and Distraction.
Now we’re mostly in the Numb and Calm stage, with a little glimmer of Hopeful and Determined: today I woke up to a sunny day and found that I actually believe that whatever the CT scans show, we will just take it in stride as best we can and get on with the business of beating this horrible thing.
Which is not to say that I’m done with crying and asking impossible questions of the universe and my husband, but for the moment, no news is simply no news. For the moment, as far as I’m concerned the cancer hasn’t colonized any new bodily territories and the neck lumps haven’t pushed their evil lebensraum campaign too terribly far. And that’s good enough to get me through one more night.