Last Friday Sarah had the biggie. The Pet-CT scan. Radioactive stuff injected into her that roams round the body and latches to any cancerous cells. The scanning machine, which resembles a gigantic doughnut, then can spot which cells aren't supposed to be there. From the brain to the toe nails.
We saw Alison at 4pm today. That dreadful wait again. The feeling reminding me somewhat pathetically of waiting to take exams. That thought of no matter how hard you've revised there could always be a question you weren't expecting. Out of your control.
As I enter Alison's room I find myself trying to spot if something isn't quite right. Does she look serious? Is there a piece of paper on the desk I can read upside down? Whose the new lady in here (the normal care assistant is off it transpires).
A few pleasantries and then she announces "Completely normal. Nothing found."
All clear.
I guess we're getting used to the cycles now because although we're clearly relieved you know it's just a point on a graph and in six months time we'll be sat here again. Waiting, wondering.
Sarah's been free of cancer for more than a year now. Half way through the first risky phase of her version of this disease. The odds remain the same overall but they are tipping ever-so slowly in our favour.
Nothing else planned now until 2013. Time to get back to life. Although I can feel a bottle of sparkle coming on tonight...
Rob.