REMISSION

I have been in remission from cancer for six months. Six wonderful, glorious months. 

I feel ... oh, what's a good adjective? Blessed. Happy. Thrilled. Ecstatic. Grateful.

Mostly grateful. For every single day. 

However, remission isn't like it is shown in movies and books. I don't run around screaming, "I beat cancer!" I don't feel like David after he slayed Goliath. I don't feel like a warrior or even a thriver. I'm just someone who worked hard to get through cancer. 

And I am thankful for six cancer-free months. 

Of course, I hope I will have more. I hope I never face the monster Cancer again. But I'm not stupid. I know I have a 40% chance of relapse. I am living now in six-month chunks - six months between PET scans. 

I feel like I'm living with a bully who may jump out of his hiding place and beat me up at any time. Or maybe not. I don't know. I live with uncertainty. Hoping and praying my cells will not mutate. 

But in the meantime, I live with joy, enjoy my newly grown hair (short and weird, but there), and love living in the real world again, enjoying the possibility of growing old and seeing my grandchildren grow up. 

It is enough. And I am grateful.