Originally Posted by EndGameNYC

My sister went to see her medical oncologist today, the guy who coordinates with her neurologist and all other staff working on her case. On her last visit, she was told that nothing had changed, and that was a good thing. Today, he basically told her that the cancer in her lung has all but cleared, that the tumor on her adrenal glands has shrunk dramatically, and that there are no longer signs of cancer in her brain. She texted me earlier today to let me know, but I came out to see her and she's ecstatic. I don't go for guarded optimism, nor do I expect the worst in order to avoid feeling let down. I'd rather relish the moment. Disappointment is disappointment, so I'm ecstatic too.

She said she intentionally wore no makeup today...that either good news or bad news would make her cry. Her doctor started out by saying, "Before we start...," and then she burst into tears. He couldn't contain his feelings, and his broad smile told her everything she needed to know. She said she was crying on and off for about four hours today. You can only imagine her relief. She hadn't told me or anyone else prior to today, but she was told in the beginning of her treatment that the most optimistic prognosis was for her to live another twelve months. That would have meant some time next March if everything went well.

She was told today, for the first time, that the toxicity of her chemotherapy most certainly would have started breaking her down and affecting her internal organs at some point. To date, the only problem she has following chemo is being very tired. Her doctor told her that she has an extremely powerful immune system, and that all internal organs are in perfect working order, one of the reasons why treatment is working so well. They've now decreased her treatment sessions, and have eliminated the more aggressive, more toxic chemotherapy.

My sister's been telling me lately that I've been looking very tired a lot of the time. Why would I tell her that this is wearing on me? That's between my therapist and me. So my relief is exquisite as well. And not even a single thought of drinking along the way. Mary Ann described for me today what it's like knowing you're going to die in about a year, every single day, and then being told that she's headed in the right direction, and that all her doctors are startled by her progress. Of course I didn't tell her that there was a time when I wished and hoped for the anticipated release from my suffering that death would bring.

I don't know what else to say, or that there is anything else to say. As is true of so many others here, I've genuinely benefited from the tremendous support here on SR, both giving and receiving. And I can never thank you all enough for that.