07.23.2020|| This past Tuesday, I got the last of my chemo infusions. Sweet #16. On Valentine's Day, I started my Adriamycin/Cytoxan series, an infusion every three weeks for 4 cycles. Then, in May, I started my weekly Taxol series for the remaining 12 weeks. I missed one Taxol dose (Chemo #11) due to a stomach ulcer (ugh-remember that?), but I still counted down the weeks, days, minutes, and seconds. I ended it with sweet #16. I'm done!
As I was going about my routine preparations for chemo that morning, I was filled with mixed emotions. I was anxious. I was giddy. I was also on the verge of tears. There were moments when I just wanted to fall down on my knees and sob out of relief that my six-month "journey" was over. I also wanted to jump up and down with joy that I was done. Basically, I felt bipolar. I couldn't believe I made it through the last six months.
My sisters and my husband took me that morning. I didn't want a big fuss, but they insisted on joining me for the early morning ride. My plan was just to go in, do my thing, say my thank yous to the awesome Nursing and Medical staff, and leave quietly. I was going to experience my last chemo "alone" like the previous 14 rounds, and the whole thing felt anticlimactic. I thought, well, there's really nothing to celebrate...yet.I still have stuff to get through. The cancerous tumor, although shrinking, is still in my breast. I still need surgery, still need radiation, still need to start my hormone therapy. I still need to have scans after all of that to make sure there is no evidence of disease (NED.) I thought, "I'll celebrate after all that." However, the people I love and happen to surround myself with are all way more fun than I am. That's probably why I am so drawn to these peeps. Even if I say "No, no big deal," they find a way to make the "small and big" something to celebrate. They remind me to rejoice even in the middle of my breast cancer "course," and that's exactly what they did for me this week. My sisters got themselves and my kids to all dress up in pink, and they enthusiastically greeted me with balloons, signs, confetti, hugs, and love. My friends who thoughtfully remembered that it was my last chemo day sent me text messages, dropped off treats on my doorstep, or visited me this past week. Man, I love them. Their acts are reminders of the kind of person I want to be for others. How can I be a better daughter, wife, mother, sister, friend, and nurse-midwife? How can I love on others better?
I left chemo feeling happy! Thanks to my sisters, I celebrated reaching the finish line of chemotherapy. There was a big weight lifted off my shoulders and even now, I'm riding on that wave of relief, gratitude, and joy. Thank you all for carrying me through this with your words of encouragement. Thank you for joining me on this ride.