That song was going through my head yesterday, as my husband and I both marked the 27th anniversary of our first kiss. We're still crazy in love, and I still look forward to those goodnight smooches and good morning smooches and goodbye smooches and hello smooches and whenever smooches...
Today the song went through my head after (barely) hearing my ear surgeon declare that my six-month-new eardrum has fallen victim to the ongoing effects of radiation treatment. It healed nicely at first, but has since opened up and now we have to figure out what to do next.
"Tell me again -- when did you have radiation treatment?"
"A little over four years ago." I think I puffed out my chest with a little pride when I said that. ("Yes, sir, that was for a glioblastoma.")
I remember a discussion with my brother, who was in his dermatology residency while I was undergoing radiation treatment. I asked him about the risks of skin cancer with so much radiation exposure to my scalp. He replied that he hoped to see me develop skin cancer from my radiation treatment, because it would take about twenty years or so for that to happen! (As Forrest Gump would say, I hope I don't let him down!)
I'm one-fifth of the way there. Meanwhile, I have a new reminder that after all these years, I am still alive to see more crazy long-term effects of treatment. Surely the tumor got it worse, I have to tell myself. (HA!)
Until we figure out what to do next, I can go back to convenient hearing. I have already mastered holding the phone to my left ear, and I'm grateful for good vision, because I rely on closed captioning when I watch television or movies on DVD. I also have a continued excuse to avoid being seen in a swimsuit!