Jumping Ahead of Myself?

Well, the results of the CT scan are official, and they're as good as Dr. Fox thought.  So there's very little cancer remaining in my liver!  What's more, I feel terrific!  I haven't felt this good without prednisone since before this all started.  I look like myself, and I feel like myself.  I'm suddenly not worrying about every little thing out of the ordinary, or scouring my body for signs of leukemia or lymphoma (amazing how paranoid it's possible to become).  My stomach is going back to normal, although I'm off the Xeloda for one more week because of intestinal distress.  I still have what I now know to be called hand, foot syndrome (catchy name)by the nurses at Genentech, which manufactures Xeloda.  I can live with that.  My optimism is overflowing, perhaps too much.

I'm certainly not out of the woods.  I'm not in remission, and Dr. Fox didn't mention remission.  I feel like I must be near remission, but how could I possibly know for sure?  I think Dr. Fox plans to keep me on Xeloda for years, he's done it with other patients.  I'm still a chemo patient and I'm indefinitely a chemo patient.  If I start to go downhill or if cancer pops up in some other part of my body, it will be as devastating as learning it for the first time.  I can't go through that trauma again.  You saw my posts from last June, but even that didn't adequately express how horrible it was.  I kept thinking I could die any moment, that I could just keel over while getting an exuberant group of first graders through the last few days of school.  My head tingled.  It didn't hurt, it was just impossibly overloaded.  So now I'm a bit nervous about not being afraid.  Be glad you're not me.  Because I told a teacher's aide that I'm not looking for a long-term or permanent teaching job because I'm recovering from a long illness, which made me feel like I jinxed myself somehow.  How did those words fall out of my mouth?  I'm recovering from a long illness?  I hope!  Ugh.