The time has come the walrus said to talk of many things....

The night before the day has finally arrived.

I am now done my treatment for cancer and will tomorrow be embarking on the journey called 'evaluation.' Has it come back?

Will the PET scan or the CT scan show that all the 'crap' i went through to still the mighty beast actually show him to be dead?

I named my cancer "Hank".

In my entire life, I have never known a nice Hank so I thought it fitting to name something that might actually take my life in the worst case scenerio. In the best, he'd just 'wring my clock' for awhile and never make me forget that he and I are the 'bestest' of friends now.

I wonder what the 'etiquette' is for activities on the night prior to the 'evaluation?'

I sit here sipping a good glass of red while my daughter runs around with her sleep-over buddy and it almost seems like I didn't even go through a couple of months of daily doctor visits and dragging myself out of bed in the morning just cause "I had to."

Life is tougher living 'after' having cancer than anything I have ever done.

The lack of 'life control' is sometimes overwhelming to an irish lass who is used to 'running the show.'

The way that I see it, tomorrow could go one of two ways.

I could be given an 'A' to match how I feel right now. The beast would be gone out of my ass and I will see my kids grow up to be functioning adults and I'll proudly be a chubby grandma wearing 'lavender' to a wedding quite a few years from now and I will be so thankful and forever smiling.

I could also be given an 'F' and will leave the cancer clinic so dejected to go home and hug my kids and cry in private because all of the things that I promised them that I would do, would no longer occur. I was a fake. I didn't follow through.

If the will to live has a damn thing to do with it, I will be given an 'A' and also a gold star.

The treatment although quick was a definite challenge to your will to live and your endurance for pain. The memory is so fresh in my mind still.

All it takes is one look from my son to reinforce that I would walk in there again with my head in the air and get under the radiation machine i've named, "sparky" and let him hit me to the ends of the earth if required.

2006 was a pretty shitty year for me. Man, that sounds ironic, no?

I'm hoping for nothing but the best for 2007.

The treatment for cancer would be enough to go through.

Having gone through an 'experimental' gene therapy protocol with 1/2 of standard therapy in terms of radiation and chemotherapy, I am both feeling amazing and fearful at the same time.

If it works, I will be a super-hero. I will be relegated to the upper echelons where the frontiersmen for modern science lay their 'blankies.'

If it does not, I and all of my 'history' will be filed away under some clinical trial data where I will sit collecting dust until sometimes decides that a different ingredient might have actually have saved my life.

I would jump again if given a chance to do a clinical trial.

What does one really have to lose?

Ummm, let's see....I have a one year old baby and i'm only 40 and a teenage daughter who is 11 going on 20.

I have everything to lose and it is because of this that I chose to participate in something that might actually save the world.

The things we have to pass on don't involve money usually. It is the things that money cannot buy that separate our 'swag' into 2 piles aptly named "junk" and "precious."

No matter what the grade I hear tomorrow, I am prepared as best as I can be.

I have evaluated my life a lot lately and I am confident to say that I've done pretty good.

We've all heard the question, "If you died tomorrow, would you be happy for what you've done up to today?"

I can honestly say that I actually have.

I hope that this bides me well for the first check-up tomorrow and by 5 pm, I can sit down for another 90 days and thank God that I had another 3 months.