A.D. (After Diagnosis) Three is officially over today. I was wide awake, as eager as a child on Christmas Eve, as I watched the clock display 12:00 midnight, ushering in the twelfth day of the twelfth month of the year. Welcome A.D. FOUR!
Three years ago on December 12 I awakened from neurosurgery to hear the word, "malignant." I would later hear "glioblastoma" and receive somber explanations that a grade IV tumor had a prognosis of less than a year to maybe fourteen months, with my age and tumor location being favorable conditions. At that time, three-year survival was considered "long-term survival" -- a category for only a tiny percentage of patients. But I think that percentage is growing, especially among Dr. Fink's patients. I've met others who have survived longer.
I thought I should say, "Let the celebration begin!"
But we were celebrating last night. Jared and I stood in line with the kids for hours at a Wal-Mart in Irving, waiting to meet Glenn Beck on his book signing tour.
When he finally arrived, we had a brief book swap moment, as he signed our copies of The Christmas Sweater, and I handed him a signed copy of Fertile in Our Faith. Jared snapped a picture just as Glenn (that's him in the hat) was tapping the cover and saying, "I think I actually have a copy of this -- but thank you!" (He's an adoptive parent, too.) I think he was just being a gracious recipient, pretending to recognize the book, but I did try to send him a copy last year. So maybe now he has two. And I got to feel like a Make-a-Wish kid again.
We'll also celebrate tonight with a big party at our house. Actually, it's an Elders' Quorum Christmas Party hosted at our house, but hey -- it's still a party! And it's celebrating the birth of the One who has gotten me through the past three years.
And really -- although this is a milestone that I have had my eye on for a long time, every day of the past three years has been a day to celebrate. Waking up from neurosurgery three years ago was something to celebrate. And even though I carried devastating news with me, going home from the hospital two days later was something to celebrate. Surviving treatment and tumor progression and more treatment was something to celebrate. Graduating from treatment earlier this year was something to celebrate. Preparing for my fifth Messiah performance next week is something to celebrate. Working toward my brown belt is something to celebrate. Attending every baseball game, school recital, science fair, and birthday party has been something to celebrate. And I could go on and on.
Let the celebration CONTINUE!