I have a stitch in my right side tonight. It's probably nothing but since my liver functions are also a little elevated, my doctor is ordering another ultrasound.
Suddenly, 'stable' is looking pretty good.
I try not to dwell on my fears. There are, however, times when the dark thoughts that nibble at the edge of my consciousness threaten to swallow me whole.
I want to live longer than the friend of a friend (and mother of young children) who died from liver mets within two years of her diagnosis.
I want to outlive the prognosis of "years not decades" that was gently delivered by my oncologist.
I want to be a living, breathing medical miracle.
I want to live.