It Itches

I am exactly 8 weeks and 2 days from my operation. In the first few days after I returned from the hospital (after spending 5 days therein), I couldn't sleep longer than 5 minutes at a time. I couldn't much focus on anything because of the vicodin and the pain. I couldn't drive anywhere. I was supposed to walk a little every hour (but we all know how that goes...). Today, I drive everywhere I want to go. I drink wine if I want to, because I'm not on painkillers, and haven't been for over a month now. But I have this 7.5-inch zipper from my navel down to where the sun don't shine. It isn't painful to touch any more, but it sure is red. And the vampire bite marks on either side of the surgical line are still there. It's a reminder of where I've come from. Not constant, but near enough. I have a slight bit of pain, right around the belt line. I pretty much don't pay any attention to it. It's not like even two weeks ago, when I knew the pain was there all the time. I have to be reminded now that I have any at all. I consider myself cured. What do I face now? I will walk unassisted into Lab Corp on June 1st and have my blood drawn for the first of two tests. I will then call the oncologist's office, and Shirley will apply for a PET CT scan one more time. I have to say I'm a little nervous about the latter, not because of the procedure, which is a piece o' cake, but because of what it might show. If it shows I'm free and clear of cancer, I'm home free. Well, pretty much, although the gynecologist will see me annually for five years. If not... well, I don't want to think about that. Oh, one further thing: the incision scar itches. It's the damnedest thing.