CaDiva has Non-Hodgkin Folicular Lymphoma. That is a given. It is as close to a chronic form of cancer as you can get. Everyone says, if you are going to get cancer, Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma is the way to go. First time around, we had four masses, Huey, Dewey, Louie and Claudette. And we smote them with the thunderous power of a righteous outrage. And for five years, we were in full remission. Then Murgatroyd reared his ugly head. Just in the inside of her left eye. We got our soldiers all lined up. The medical professionals we needed, our family, friends, and every powerful woman we know sending up any spare karma she had. Well, after exams, photos, biopsies, PET/CT scans and four different doctors, we heard today that Murgatroyd is a friendless, only child. He is eminently treatable with radiation. And we have the name and an appointment to meet with the Doctor who is going to melt his ugly little ass into oblivion.
Not only that, but we met with the woman who is going to perform our wedding ceremony and she is completely in tune with our thoughts. And she is a lifelong friend of the photographer we wanted but couldn't get. So between CaDiva e-mailing the venue and trying to ignore her pending doctor visit, the photographer called. She said the officiant, her dear friend, told her to cancel whatever it was she had conflicting with our wedding, because she absolutely HAD to photograph our wedding.
So, we have someone writing our ceremony. We are meeting with the radiology oncologist and signing the vendor contract on Monday. The next Saturday we get to find my dress and then meet the photographer the Monday after that. And they are doing a live stage show on Nashville tonight. And the woman I love is going to be hale and hardy by June.
My life is so good. I have so many of you to thank. If you think I owe you thanks, that means I am thinking your name right now and thank you.
And my grateful thanks as well to all who sent their love and support our way ...
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