Clean

Today was Teague's first follow-up MRI of his brain and spinal cord. He's clean. There's nothing in there that shouldn't be. I don't even think I know how relieved I am.

It was a long day. We checked in at Primary Children's for the MRI at 9 a.m., and Teague was waking from sedation by about noon. Then we met with his neurosurgeon, Dr. Kestle. Walking into that office made me glad to be on the follow-up end this time. They had us check our info. I looked at the very paper I had filled out the first time we were there. Date: April 17. Reason for visit: tumor detected on an MRI. Eegh. Glad we're not back on that day.

From there we went over to LDS Hospital to meet with Dr. Watson, our oncologist. He also said Teague's brain looked good and that he hadn't expected anything to have grown because we started with a total resection and Teague has been in radiation all summer. So if there had been new growth, it would have been a bad, nasty, aggressive thing to deal with.

Teague was cute in the radiation office. He wanted to pat the machine. I overheard Dr. Watson checking with the therapists to see if the room was empty. It was funny to hear him say, "Teague wants to do a pat-pat for old time's sake." They all happily escorted him in and let him get his little hand up there.

We have about an 80% chance that this cancer is licked. The next two years present the greatest cancer comeback probability. I can hold my breath that long, I think. And Teague's hair should start growing back in about three months, but it will probably always be thinner. Some hair follicles had to be sacrificed. I know that shouldn't be a big deal, but I wouldn't be a mom if it didn't bug me.

So now we wait. No more doctor appointments for three months. But it doesn't feel as liberating as I expected. My sister Jessie summed it up. When I said that we have nothing more to do for a while, she replied, "Nothing but worry."

I will have to learn to not let the what-if stress take over. It's time to start believing that Teague does not have cancer. That's how it is right now, our doctors have said so, and I have to let that good news sink in. Right now I'm just a tangled ball of crazy emotions and fears that I have to sort out and settle. There's been too much to take in, but I will get there.


Cry it out and focus on the blessings. Focus on the blessings. Focus on the blessings.