The Big C misses one

My mother is one step closer to considering herself a breast cancer survivor. This is a good thing!

Her diagnosis was met with the customary, "what now?" and "why me?" feelings, along with some heavy depression. Let's face it: It was scary at best.

On the other hand, her prognosis was always better than that many face. The cancer was low-grade, it was operable, and they could do radiation treatments only rather than the full battery of radiation and chemo. Her last radiation treatment for her program was earlier today.

Still, the radiation treatment program and the accompanying healing has made her extremely tired. All the time. As in, she takes a nap every day, something I never remember my mom doing unless she was very sick.

I'm not as worried now as I was, although there is still that chance that some cancerous cell escaped the wrath of the wroentgens [sic, I know, but alliterative, and no apologies for the pun].

On her way home, she stopped by the house to celebrate for just a moment, and so that she could meet her new grand-cat. Captain Kangaroo Jack Sparrow (the cat) was reluctant to come out, but tolerated the pets from Mom and my sister before going back into hiding for a while.

I'm glad she got the chance to see her grand-kitties again. I'm glad she's going to be a survivor. It goes without saying that I'd much rather have her around than an insurance settlement.