Well, I didn’t want to bury the lede.
The results of Faramir’s post-chemo tests started coming back last week. None were able to determine any abnormal cell activity, and the tumor on his spine is clearly gone. Even though this should have been good news, we didn’t feel able to celebrate yet. Friends would ask about his tests and recovery, and I would hem and haw, not wanting to share something that felt like it could be taken away at any moment.
But he had a bone marrow biopsy last week, and we were sitting in the exam room on Tuesday, waiting for the results, and his doctor came in and said, “You’re in remission.” And then it was real. We high-fived (well, what were we supposed to do? Kiss? Cry? His doctor, while awesome and cancer-curing and everything, is kind of strange, so high-fiving is about the strongest emotion we’re comfortable expressing in front of him). He’s in remission.
The sense of relief is quiet but pervasive. It’s like we have permission to resume our lives. For the first time in months, there’s nothing hanging over our heads.
There is, however, also a kitty.
Her name is Tabbouleh. We’re taking care of her for a friend for the next few months. She is delightful and annoying in equal measures, and we’re so happy to have a cat around the place.
If it weren’t past my bedtime, and there weren’t leftovers to put away and a litterbox to clean, I’m sure I could come up with a more eloquent way to end this post. As it is…thank you for reading. Thank you for your help, and good thoughts, and love. I’ll write again soon.