Post-Op: 45 months, 2 days

In my little curtained-off waiting area in the radiology department of Roswell Park Comprehensive Cancer Center last week, it suddenly feels like 2015 again.

I’m a patient.

Everyone who steps in asks my name. And my date of birth. I’m cold. I’m hungry. I’ve been fasting all day for the CAT scan. And despite my best efforts at super-hydrating to swell my veins, finding one for the IV isn’t a slam-dunk.  

The next poke in back of my hand stings more, but at least it works. Then the injection and that familiar warm sensation. First in my nose and mouth, then in my butt.

I have no aversion to the scan – hands over my head, the slide into the machine’s doughnut hole, the instructions to hold your breath. I’m less fond of the second IV injection – the dye which highlights my internal plumbing. As I wait for a return visit to the machine, this time lying on my stomach, there’s dull pain on both sides of my lower back. The kidneys are not pleased, but they get over it.

I mention it three days later when I return to Roswell Park for a visit with the man who saved my life four years ago – Dr. Khurshid Guru, the master of robotic surgery. Back then, he said I’d have an 80% chance of living five years. Now, after nearly 80% of those five years, the tests continue to be good. I’m still cancer-free. Dr. Guru says he’ll see me again in 12 months.