QUE SERA SERA

I was out golfing on Monday, my first round since cancer cut my season short last July.
Although my game was rusty, it was fun to back on the links with three good friends, ones who don’t mind when I move the ball to a favourable lie after I’ve hooked it behind an oak tree.

It’s great to be feeling well again.

Last Thursday, I was back at North York Hospital for my three month check up. After a cursory examination, Dr. Goldman reminded me that mine had been a very aggressive cancer and that if it comes back, he would have to resort to stem cell therapy. I’m not even sure what that means and I was hesitant to ask.

“Of course,” he added, “if you have the slow growing type of lymphoma, when it comes back, we’ll knock it down again with more chemo. We’ll do a CT scan before your next appointment in September to take a closer look at things.”

And here I thought I was all better.

I’m realizing that there’s not much I can do about a recurrence of my cancer. Lymphoma has a reputation for being an unwanted return visitor- a lot like a black bear at a camp site.

Terry asked the doctor about some of the dietary changes I’ve made this year like not drinking milk. The doctor seemed skeptical that diet modification of any type would inhibit a lymphoma.

“Besides, what would the dairy people say if doctors claimed that milk caused cancer,” he countered.

My internal radar system immediately signaled collusion as memories of the documentary Forks over Knives flashed through my mind. I also recall Jacques’ doctor saying that diet likely did not play a role in his cancer either. Terry keeps reminding me that doctors are not trained to know about diet, that they’re are all about the cure, not the prevention of cancer.

In any case, I really can’t worry about the admonitions my Dr. Doom. If nothing else, my cancer has taught me to take every day as a gift from God and leave the worry about tomorrow to the weather man.