As I understand it

I've had a feeling for a few weeks that my check up was going to be fine. But I was still relieved (because you never really know until the doc utters the words) when my premonition came true.

Part of me doesn't know where to start with all the information. I spent yesterday afternoon bouncing around the cancer centre because I was so happy. I crashed and burned in the evening (but more on that tomorrow), processing everything.

The skinny
No, I'm not skinny, but I'm slowly working towards not quite so plump. This skinny involves the nuts and bolts of all the medical information I got yesterday.

1. I'm doing exceptionally well. I was called a model test-study patient again because I can down all eight pills in a single swallow (sort of like leaping tall buildings in a single bound in the clinical trial world), am responding to treatment and experience minimal side effects. I also think my cheerful demeanour makes me a fairly easy patient.

2. The target lesion has reduced by at least 30 per cent. Now, the tumour being measured is still on my bowel wall, which my doc isn't convince was the original target. He's not even sure whatever is being measured on the bowel wall is cancerous, but just a thickening - and shrinking.But whatever is on the bowel wall decreased from the last CT scan and by 30 per cent or more since I started the study.

I still haven't seen the radiologist report, and won't until my next check up, but his report is the official word. Bottom line, whoo hoo, the chemo and Olaparib has kicked the cancer into submission.

3. A cancerous lymph node (yesterday was the first I heard of it) that was smaller than 1.5 cm, and therefore did not qualify for the study, decreased in size by 75 per cent. That's microscopic! I still don't like the news a cancerous lymph node was involved, but it's responded well.

4. My CA-125 decreased from 47 at my last appointment to 40. That brings me much closer to the top end of normal, which is 35. I've been told my "normal" may now be higher, but I'm encouraged it dropped again. Hopefully, it's the Olaparib that continues to tell my body these mutant cancer cells aren't normal and encourages them to die. Continue to die cancer die!

5. My hemoglobin is still quite low at 105. That means it only increased by four points since my last check up seven weeks ago. Normal for a woman is between 120 and 160. Yikes. My platlets are a little low too. My doc is a little concerned, but not overly so. He told me to take it easy, eat lots of fruits and veggies, and listen to my body. I guess when I hit that wall of tiredness, I can blame my low hemoglobin.

Remission, oh how I love you!
When I asked if I could be considered in remission, the nurse said yes! I'm considered in remission with a partial response. That means there's still cancer in there, but it's dormant. Some cancer survivors live years and years in this state. I hope to be one of them. Sleep, rotten cancer, sleep.

Did I expect all the cancer to be gone? No.

Am I happy with the results I got yesterday? Absolutely.

After a good night's sleep and lots of mental processing, I feel relieved, content and a little tired (I guess I was more worked up than I thought). I'm still a little fearful because I've been down this road before. But I have a new tour guide this journey - my friend, Olaparib - and hopefully her path is longer and a lot less rocky.

So today we celebrate the good news. Each day is a gift and needs to be cherished. Cheer with me, my friends, for I'm in remission.

Tina