Alright, people! Jump, shout, knock yourself out. Wave your hands in the air and shout “Hallelujiah!” You can do this as many times as you like. I am prone to do it on a moment’s notice, because my daughter has finished her chemotherapy.
She is a very worn-out young woman, but she handled 14 sessions of chemo very, very well. She did everything right and I am pretty much in awe of her strength. And she is still smiling. Well, unless the doctor is describing anything invasive or graphic, at which point she throws up. Hey. We all have our weak spots.
This is a young woman who has loathed shots, and medical poking and prodding of any sort, all her life. During the past 6 months, she first got daily shots to gather and store ovum, then got shots three times every week to keep her blood count up, and then…yes, there’s more…she had to give blood every week the day before her chemo session. Talk about your pincushion. No whining, no complaining, no nonsense. She just did what had to be done.
And she’s isn’t only finished with chemo. She has no cancer in her lymph nodes, the mammogram and ultrasound of her right side was clean and clear, and she does not carry the BRCA cancer gene. These are all wonderfully good things. She is, essentially, cancer-free now. However, to seek and destroy any wayward, hanging-about cancer cells, she will begin six weeks of radiation next week. The doc said, from the start, they were going to be very aggressive with her treatment. That works for us.
Think cool, healthy thoughts her way, as radiation can burn and blister the skin at the site. She is good, though, and focused now on getting her immune system back in the game and feeling a bit less like she just finished a marathon run.
There is an ad I love, for an insurance company, that I think sums up the last year, and life in general. It says, “In a place, far away, there is the Warehouse of the Unexpected. You never order from it — but, oh, does it deliver.”
We are officially celebrating with an End-of-Chemo, Mexican food and Margaritas party tomorrow. Salud y largo vida to us all.
Jean Gillette is a freelance writer and extremely grateful and joyous mom. Contact her at firstname.lastname@example.org.