The Beginning of the End....

“I am so proud of you—give me a hug.”   It was at that moment I knew the worst was over.  No more chemo, no more visits to the ER and no more stays on the 10^th floor.  He then continued—“I will see you in a few weeks to go over the tamoxifen and then a month after you have been on it.  Then it will be every six months.  And I probably will not recognize you on the first 6 month visit—you’ll have hair.” And with those words, Dr. K released me for the next step: radiation.

 It was really strange walking out of the office as I really had no words (I know, very hard to believe, but I didn’t and while I did say thank you—it did not do my feelings justice.  I mean, what else do you say to a team who was the center of your world for months?   Hope never to see you again just seemed wrong).  On the other hand, as I walked out the door I had this amazing freeing feeling—I was done, FINALLY done with chemo.  Kinda felt surreal.

The past few weeks have been wonderful.  The chemo is leaving the body and I am feeling better and better each day.  I still get very tired, but it’s different. It is not a sick tired.   Of course it probably has to do with pushing myself as that golden normal ring is within reach (probably not a good use of words as I was never able to grab the golden ring on the merry go round—I was too short).  I admit to overdoing it—but it was nice to finally work a few 8 hour days. Not to brag or anything, but this last pay period I worked 36.5 hours the first week and 37 the second and it was heaven-- okay—it just about killed me the first week but I made it through the second week without dying so all is good. (Estell is now shaking her head as she reads this—I expect a phone call will be in my future). 

 My tastes are almost back to normal too and I am torn between it is wonderful and darn, I really need to lose weight.  Then again, I have been loving all the fruits and veggies I had stayed away from.  And strangely enough, my taste for real soda and sweet tea have left me.  Too bad my taste for those Chocolate Peanut Butter Cupcakes remains.  Small steps, small steps…

My beginning of the end starts tomorrow (Monday, June 25).  I have a standing 4:30pm appointment at Coastal Radiation—now forever known as the Glow Place—every weekday until August 10.  In preparation for turning into a glow worm, I am the proud owner of 5 little tattoos—dots.  I will say I was dreading the day I went in to get them (remember I hate needles).  But it was nothing… thank goodness for small favors.  Rumor has it I might get tired from the radiation. Seriously?!  I have spent the last 6 months tired and I doubt it will be like the chemo fatigue.  Now that was bad---nothing like taking a shower and then having to take a nap.  I was thinking those days were behind me.  Many have offered to take me, but I am hoping to do most of it on my own.   Time will tell.  However, Debbie gets to take me for my first zap tomorrow and I figure since she is a nurse, if anything happens, she will be there.  Nothing is supposed to happen, but we are talking me so anything goes at this point.  Just covering all the bases.

Bring on the glow…

About dang time

Freedom:  The condition of being free of restraints--- American Heritage Dictionary

            I know, a little behind with an update, but cut me a break—I have been enjoying watching round 6 in the rearview mirror.  So let’s play catch up, shall we?  Round 6 was Monday, May 21 and the following weekend—my usual let me visit the 10^th floor weekend, was looming.   Oddly enough, the odds were stocked in my favor.  For the first time, Dr K was on call and I just KNEW I was not going to be able to take advantage.  Not to mention Billy was down and he said he would cross to the other side of the ER and take me if needed.  There was a part of me which really wanted to go because of those 2, but then again, the part of me which just totally HATES fluids was praying otherwise.  Starting Sunday afternoon, I became attached to my 3 thermometers ( yes 3—I lost 2, bought one , found one as soon as I opened the new one and 10 minutes later found the last one) but I made it through.  Monday dawned and I admit to taking my temp at least 20 times.   And yes, my temp did made it to the “I have to call” point (by .1), but since Billy was long gone and Mom would be the one driving, I took 2 Advil and went to bed.

      When I woke up on Tuesday, I was ready… I had made it through the tough days and Pedro was coming out—I was sick and tired of him.  Plus he hurt and I was afraid he was infected.  I called Susan and I was on my way.  I was so excited!  I get there and before I see Becca, they take my temp.  Dang thing was 99.2.  However, Becca orders a few things and all I hear is “after all of this, take the pic line out”, Yay!  Then Dr K walked by—I waved and smiled—he smiled, kept walking then did a double take and shook his head.   He turned around and I knew he was about to suck the joy out of me and I was not disappointed.  Becca finds me and the words “he doesn’t want the pic line out just yet” come from her. Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh….figures.  As I am trying to come with grips of the unexpected—something I have become familiar with the past few months--the two of them are poking their heads in the chemo waiting room.  Not my fault the “now what” came out – which of course made the others in the room laughed --they knew…it’s a cancer thing!  After Dr K questions me and yes,  I made sure to point out  this is normally  the day I am sent home from the 10^th floor as my count is back up—something he is well aware of ….he says IF my white blood count is okay—then he will okay Pedro’s release but not before.  What could I do?  I tried to give a really sad look as I headed back to the blood draw room but didn’t work.  At least this time I got to wait near Susan—which worked out great as I knew the Yay the counts are good was meant for me! And we were on our way BACK to the chemo waiting room to GET PEDRO OUT!!!!!!!! 

            Let me tell you about the chemo room.  Obviously everyone is there for the same reason. Different cancers, so many different variations on the chemo, but there is a bond knowing we are all getting filled with the poison that will hopefully kill the cancer and prolong our lives.  The chemo nurses are amazing.  They are kind, caring and keep track of everyone which is not easy as there are so many chairs and usually all are filled.  They have a gift and it shows.   They become part of your life for as long as the chemo continues and from a patient’s point of view, it is so very important to have people who truly care and are gentle to boot.  I was hoping Brittany would be there, as she gave me my first chemo as well as 3 others.  But it was her day off and I got Crystal— my second choice.  She tells me what she will be doing and it will not hurt—but to remember I have to hold my breath and basically push just as she is taking out the last of Pedro.  Very strange… but it is to avoid an air bubble at the end—or so she says.  I still think she did it just to get me. Finally Pedro is out and in the trash.  Crystal looks at me, gives me a hug and says “bring on the radiation!” and shoves me out the door as we both started to tear up.

    I have enjoyed these past few weeks before starting on the radiation.  My arm is again my own, I am able to eat fresh, raw fruits and I just feel better.  Yes, I forgot last week was fatigue week as in my mind I was done with chemo, but I dealt with it.  I am looking forward to settling into my radiation routine and then my new normal—which does include my trusty day planner!

Jeremiah 29:11