One year. It's been one full rotation of the sun since we found out Alex has cancer. One full year of losses, hopes held and hopes dashed, dreams put into mothballs, suffering, enduring, waiting, learning and struggle. It's felt like a very long year. And now? Here we are right at the edge of a major mile marker on this journey, the next PET scan. Ugh.
Honestly? I haven't wanted this scan to come. I've tried very hard since Alex started getting healthy to hold space for a result from this scan that isn't favorable, but my space has been diminishing. At this moment, I don't want to know. I just want to go on as we are, Alex living life, feeling good, juggling a million supplements and meds, reading everything he can about cancer and how it works so that he can get a handle on how to go forward, us chopping and juicing and cooking constantly. I want to stop time and live right here. It feels doable.
But time waits for no one. Time is relentless in it's march onward. It doesn't slow down, it doesn't turn back. I can't freeze it, stop it or get outside of it. Scan day will come, whether I want it to or not. It's relentless.
