Sunday, November 14, 2010

Countdown to Blast-off

Yes, we passed another twelfth. Fifty-nine months since the word "malignant" was pronounced upon me. We're practically on top of that five-year survival mark that seemed like statistical zero at the time of diagnosis.

In fact, we're already five years from the time of my first "seize the day" episode. November 13, 2005, was the Sunday morning when I had a seizure while getting Emma dressed for church. We had no idea what had happened. Three days later, on the 16th, I had a series of episodes that led to a wrong diagnosis by an over-confident ER physician. Finally, on November 21, 2005, we saw an MRI scan with some kind of abnormality that looked like a tumor. We had no idea what it was until surgery on December 12 revealed that it was a malignant tumor. I knew then that I had cancer. And on December 14 our worst fears were realized when the cancer ended up being a grade IV glioblastoma. Statistically speaking, five year survival was considered a miracle at that time.

So we're counting down to December 12, when we can celebrate the completion of my "high-five" year of survival.

We're also counting down what I call the "blast-off". As in, my final radiation blast is tomorrow morning. And hopefully we'll get all that blasted glioblastoma blasted off into oblivion!


Josh and Kristen said...

Congrats on your last day of radiation! I hope that you get the chance to get the rest you need and then do something to celebrate!

dianne's blog said...

Krista - You are setting such a great example of courage and strength and living life. Thanks for sharing your life with us.

Alison said...

Dear Krista

Thank you so much for your humour, warmth, grace and honesty in dealing with this horrible disease.

I stumbled across your blog by accident, or fate, when looking for solace as I do every year at this time.

On the 23rd November three years ago I lost one of my soulmates - my beautiful Mother - who lost her very brief battle with glioblastoma. My sisters and I were fortunate and blessed to be able to nurse her at home at the end, which is what she wanted and what I am so grateful for. We laughed a lot, cried a lot and became even closer.

I still have moments where I feel like my heart isn't whole, despite the love and care of my own Prince Charming and a gorgeous boy, but you have reminded me to be grateful and also to hold onto the knowledge that she loved me as much as I did her, and one day, hopefull a long time from now, she will be there to greet me.

Thank you again and, though I am spiritual I am not overly religious, I pray that all your miracles come true for you and your beautiful family.

Warm regards