A Girl and Her Tiara

Her highness of fuzzy, new hair growth.

Well, not so much a tiara as a sparkly head thing.  As long as the sparkles set off my hair, that's all I care about.  I want it to showcase the hair I get to keep. 

That's right, kids, my oncologist tells me that I don't need chemotherapy for a while, until we see a progression, which will hopefully be never. So my beautiful, fuzzy hair gets to grow and grow and grow.  And in honor of that news, I wear a sparkly headband.  I certainly don't need a headband, there's no hair to hold back.  But the sparkles say this virgin hair of grey and brown get to stay. Yippee!!!

The news about chemotherapy, along with the seven point drop in my CA2729 tumor marker from 33 to 26, and an x-ray and  scan that show no gaping holes in my bones, makes me a happy, happy woman. 

In the world of metastatic cancer, there are no guarantees.  But in spite of that fact, I am going to take this joyful, good news and relax.  I will wear my sparkly head band, watch bad movies, and order take out Chinese food every night, if I want to.  I am just so grateful to get positive news.

And frankly, it's about damn time I got some good news.  About damn time.