It's that time of year where I tell you I'm still alive.
It's my cancerversary, and I have defied the odds for another full calendar year.
I have now lived for 6 glorious years with cancer in my body, and the most exciting news to report is that I'm a tiny bit less cancerishy than I was last year.
This news comes after my oncologist did a side-by-side comparison of my lungs from a year ago, when I jumped off the slowly sinking U.S.S. Irinotecan and onto H.M.S. Erbitux.
Despite my current "stable" scan, he was impressed to see Erbitux really has done some damage to more than just my face (skin, toes, feet, and finger nails). After we both stared at two noticeably different scans, I turned to him and yelled, "See, I've bought myself some more time!" to which he was not amused. I can't help but have a morbid (but realistic) sense of humor when living with metastatic cancer, and I don't think he shares my sarcasm for this disease.
I'm sure I've written about the lack of irony that this day falls within the Thanksgiving season. This year it falls on Thanksgiving. I live in complete humility because I am here when I know I statistically shouldn't be. Though I am technically fighting for my life, I don't live every day fighting like so many of my compatriots do.
As I do everything Thanksgiving, I will think of my friends who will not pull up a chair at the table this year, and their families that will struggle to give thanks amidst that void.