Monday, May 17, 2010

Relief

Okay, I'm done. What next? Anticipation riddles me as I digest the magnitude of what I have just accomplished.

7+ weeks, 38 treatments, relentless fatigue, and a sunburn later, I'm done. It doesn't seem like much, not yesterday or 7 weeks ago. But today, after finishing my last radiation treatment, I sat in my car and cried for longer than I have since I was diagnosed.

Not because I was sad. At all! It's the weirdest emotion I may have ever experienced. Relief? Might be the best way to explain it. I imagine it was what it must feel like to get rescued after being stranded at sea or finish the longest race of your life. It's the kind of thing you don't realize what you did until after you're done. And when you do, you are overcome with such emotion and pride and awareness that you have to allow yourself 5 minutes to sit in your car and cry while you absorb the reality of what has just happened.

My dear and loving husband met me at the oncology office to commemorate my last radiation treatment and learn what my medical oncologist has in store for my follow up treatment. I'm blessed to have my partner literally hold my hand through this entire journey like I'm a four year old crossing a busy and dangerous street for the first time.

During this process I have fed off of the encouragement from my cheerleaders on the sidelines constantly reminding me that I am strong enough to make it through this. I think many of you were scared for me, but I never saw it. I don't even know the words to thank you for being so brave and inspiring.

I fill my script of tamoxifen tomorrow. All my worries about side effects of this drug or its interference with our big baby-making plans seem distant compared to its benefits. I'm going to give this drug an honest chance because in the end, to quote my surgeon, "this drug is going to save me".

Today, life is good.

2 comments:

  1. Ok, I cried just reading that! I think we had no doubt that you would be strong throughout this whole process. We're thrilled to be your cheerleaders. Life is indeed good.

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  2. Congrats!

    My Dad was just diagnosed with Mantle Cell Lymphoma, Stage 3/4. My family started a blog, mostly to keep in touch as a family, but I noticed I was subscribed to your blog and realized that you are Dan's wife. I must've subscribed a long time ago when I worked with Dan. It's great to hear that everything turned out well and that you have a such a great husband by your side. I had been wondering how things turned out. Wish you best of luck moving forward with health and family plans. Give us an update in a couple years :)

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