Each time I calculate and record the days of Justin’s ordeal, I imagine I am Tom Hanks in Castaway, scratching it out on a cave wall. Except I wouldn’t last two hours living as a primitive. No chapstick? I’m out.
Today, Justin will be seen in clinic for a CBC (complete blood count) and physical exam. There is a term coined “scanziety” in the childhood cancer world, and maybe beyond. Of this, I do not know. But, in our world, it refers to the apprehensive feeling a parent feels as they are placing their child into CT to scan for the possible return of a tumor.
Now, Justin had leukemia, a “liquid tumor” if you will. It flowed throughout his entire body. So he is not placed in a CT scan, rather the blood is checked for abnormalities.
I do believe there is yet to be a term invented for this. Let me try. CBCziety? No. Bloodziety? Dreadful. It just doesn’t seem to work for leukemia.
I decided that I won’t suffer from this disorder, whatever you want to call it. (Clearly, I already have other disorders, let’s be honest). I won’t live in fear of the cancer returning. What will be, will be. I can’t control any of it. So, instead, I choose to embrace each day, with all of their respective flaws, and try to make the very best of it all.
This kid has the idea. Grace be with you, my friends.