Cinco de Mayo
The silver linings of the rollercoaster cancer ride keep showing up: my PET scan was beautifully clean; no further lymph node removal is needed! I'm still riding the high on this piece of information, spoken to me a few days ago, by the new doctor in my life. (I wanted to pick him up and swing him around the little exam room, but his feet would've knocked Francine over.) I kept my cool, somewhat, and only gushed about my relief over this good news, and I'm pretty sure I was jumping up and down. Just before meeting Dr. Nuesch, I experienced white-coat syndrome. My pulse rate was as high as you'd want it to be if you were engaging in aerobic exercise (though I felt fine, desiring to run out the door, and all the way to Terlingua). Francine was probably close to pulling out her phone again and playing more Sanskrit chanting music to try and help me calm down. The nurse had me deep breathing, and after a bit the pulse rate went from 130 down to 110, up again, ...