No confetti. Just a Sticker.

(Or, OMG, I Made That!)

Today I got good news at the hospital.
That kind of news feels like winning the Super Bowl, even if the celebration is quiet. No confetti. Just one overly enthusiastic patient (hi, it’s me).

The immunotherapy isn’t causing any major or alarming side effects so far, which is already more than enough to celebrate. But what made today feel even more special was a good friend taking me and treating us both to a delicious lunch at Clover.

(Side note to Clover: Why are your popovers not available all day? I would happily pay a little extra for any sandwich to come inside one of those buttery miracles. Just a thought.)

But the moment that really stuck with me came just before lunch.

Toward the end of my appointment, my lead melanoma oncologist walked into the room wearing a Cancer Sharks sticker on his white coat.
My sticker.
Right there, where anyone could see it.

I’ve given out quite a few of these. I’ve seen them on water bottles, laptops, and notebooks. But this was the first time I saw one on a doctor’s coat. And not just any doctor. My doctor. Someone I trust with my life.

It was such a small thing. But it felt huge.

Like what I imagine it feels like, turning a corner in a museum and seeing your own painting on the wall. Or walking into a bookstore and spotting your book on the shelf. Or, better yet, seeing someone pick it up and start reading.

I know I’m not an easy patient. I ask a lot of questions. I do my own research. I track every side effect, and I never hesitate to ask for clarity whenever (legit whenever) I need it.

But my team has never made me feel like I’m too much. They answer everything. They make space. They meet me with patience and respect. Always.

And today, with that little sticker on his coat, my oncologist gave me something I didn’t expect.
He didn’t just treat my illness.
He saw my creativity.
He acknowledged the part of me that still makes things and still wants to connect with others, even in the hardest seasons of my life.

It was a kind of validation I never thought I’d find in a cancer clinic. Maybe never wanted to find in a cancer clinic. But I’m so glad I did.

(P.S. If you're around BIDMC and looking for one, the first edition Cancer Sharks stickers are nearly gone. But a big new batch is on the way. Also, while I was overjoyed to see the sticker, I managed to keep it together and didn’t completely fangirl, asking if I could take a picture. We all have our limits.)

So, instead, here’s a picture of what I think is my first-ever hospital photo, in a bracelet I recently discovered.