Friend had PET scan.
Friend phoned doctor the next day and was told the doctor was out, but would be back on Monday. Then Nurse said, "Yeah, I really want him to look at these (results). Thus she left Friend and Cancer to be all warm and cozy with each other all weekend long.
Friend ate wonderful, soothing, Orange Blondies.
Friend ate nearly all the Orange Blondies, that I baked and delivered, by herself. Which is fine since I only took her a plate of them and not a pan full. Plus, I baked them for her, not for anyone else.
Friend phoned her doctor Monday morning.
Friend was informed again that the doctor, whom I will refer to now as Dr. NoSeeUm, was out again, but would return on Tuesday.
What the ??
In my little pea brain I had decided that Friend was terminal. It was the only way I could get through Monday without bursting into a crying fit. If she already had the worst diagnosis than there was no where to go but up.
And up we've gone.
The PET Scan did not reveal any cancer below the neck. None. Nada. Zilch.
They will continue with their plan of attack and Friend will go in for surgery in a few days.
In the mean time, I am scouring cookbooks for the sugary deliciousness that will help her get through the next phase of kicking cancer's fanny.
And I'm going to Zumba...so that the sugary goodness doesn't kick mine.