Breathe.

Today we got some super, terrific, fantastic, wonderful news.

Last week, Mum went for a CT scan, to check on the progress of the cancer/chemo battle. Today, she got the results.

The cancer is almost gone.

Mum will need to continue this round of chemo and stay on the neupogen shots until May or so, but things are definitely looking positive.

When my mum told me, I felt like I'd been holding my breath without knowing it since November, and was finally able to exhale and draw in fresh air again. I've been determinedly, stubbornly, maniacally positive; forcing a strength and an optimism that doesn't come naturally to me. The only time I broke down a little was the day I heard the actual numbers - the stats concerning her 'chances'. And it wasn't that the numbers were so horrific, or so discouraging. No, it's just that, even a number as hopeful as "70%" leaves an enormous, frightening hole of 30% - a 30% chance of the unthinkable. And so, after that night, it was relegated to that hole - the realm of the unthinkable, and therefore a Thing I Do Not Think About.

The "George's Father" storyline on Grey's Anatomy was a little hard to take, I must admit (darn my love for that show!). During the seemingly hours that it took me to fall asleep last night, knowing that the news would come today, I kept hearing George saying, "I don't know how to live in a world where my dad doesn't." What a horrific thought.

But all is good, and I had a day of floating on air, and dancing down the hall at work - and yes, I was caught at it and I didn't care.

My mum kicks cancer's ass. I'm taking all the happiness and bravado I can get today and holding onto it with both hands.