It’s been an amazing and crazy three weeks.

I spent Easter in NYC, in a lovely little apartment a block away from the East River and the walking paths that go from the Upper East Side down to the 59th St. Bridge. On the train down to the city, I opened an email from my friend Monica Burns, telling me that Quail Run Rumor Has It RN NA NAJ (Reuben) had died in his agility partner Bruce Burns’ arms on April 1st.

Reu had been just five years old when I’d been diagnosed, and after surgery was ruled out and I was put on chemo forever, I knew I had to re-home him with someone who could manage his activity level and give him the active life I’d trained him to enjoy. I had placed Reu with Bruce and Monica in October, 2004, at a pretty low point in my cancer diagnosis. They loved our crazy Gordon setter like he’d been their forever. He was their boy, and I kept my distance while he got acclimated. I saw him a few months later at the first AKC Rally trials of 2005, and that fall and the next during the Wine Country circuit, we had a small reunion. Each time I saw our boy my heart was proud that he’d adjusted so well. Each time I turned on my work laptop and saw the magnificent portrait of Reu posing in a field next to a pond, my pride in my setter cried a little.

I was supposed to die first. So I did what I needed to do to make sure he had a great home. But me dying first didn’t quite work out – Reu died three weeks before his 11th birthday.

The Monday after Easter, I discovered that my scans were, once again, ‘unremarkable.’ Who knew I’d ever grow up to want to be unremarkable? But there it is – and I’ve got the paperwork to prove it. Better still (I think) is that Dr. Personality put me on six-month checkups.

NYC every six months? I’ve been traveling to NYC for scans and check-ups at least every four months (or three months or two months) for the last five years. NYC is part of my world, so much a part of my life that I always wonder how to answer that NY state income tax question about maintaining a residence in New York City. Now, I get to go to NYC when I want to go – not just to have a CT scan.

Being unremarkable means that I’m going to look at something I think I can do – even if it does over-book me for awhile. I’ve applied to sit as one of the citizen reviewers on the Department of Defense Peer-Reviewed Research Committee for colorectal cancer research. I don’t know if I’ll get in, but I want to try.

Then, today, I found out that a friend from the Colon Club – Mary Catherine Dykhouse, who posted as “justsing” – passed away due to complications of advanced stage IV rectal cancer. She is survived by her husband Joe, her daughters and a son. She was 46 years old. She lived about 2 1/2 years after her diagnosis. MC and I didn’t always agree on approach, but we always respected each other.

What I find myself asking in my out-loud voice is why I’m breaking the rules, coloring outside the lines of expected survival, outliving yet another person who was diagnosed with this disease after my own dx in 2004, but who will not break through his or her own survival curve.

Lobbying in D.C. made me realize how effective I could be at getting people to listen, and act. The DoD peer-reviewed research committee sounds like it’s something I’m supposed to do, if I get the opportunity. Maybe this is why I outlived my wonderful, crazy Gordon setter. Maybe I can make a difference…and speak for MC, for Carolyn, for Janine, for Piotr, for everyone who isn’t alive any longer to speak for themselves.