So it’s been a week since I got the very happy news that the chemo – my magic beans – is doing the trick. Not to get all medical but I’ve had what they call a ‘partial response’ which in layman’s terms means the things in my lungs have shrunk by around half. Happy days indeed. Of course I am relieved and delighted; if there was no change or if they had got bigger, it would be a very different story. But after the celebrations and high fives, I’m kind of back where I started in September when these little buggers were first picked up – confused and unsure of what I can and should be hoping for or expecting. I’ve had 3 months of taking my pills like a good girl, and focusing solely on this scan but now what? The problem hasn’t gone away although the prognosis is good. But how good? Officially the future remains the same, it’s not curable but am I allowed to hope and pray for a miracle? I don’t know but I am. I like to make plans and of course I can in the short-term but the difficulty I now face is living my life in 3 month cycles, according to the quarterly scans I’ll now have. Forever probably. Tough as it is, I think it will be good discipline. I hate cheesy quotes but I literally do have to make the most of every day now and that’s pretty wicked in lots of ways. There can’t be any wasted opportunities, any time to lose, any new friends to turn away from, any amazing experiences to miss. How many people have that sense of urgency or purpose? So as I come down from the high of last week’s joyous news, I’m determined to live life in a full and meaningful way. At least until February when my next scan is due. This is good. Christmas is going to be ace.