I'M FINALLY BACK TO MY BLOG...I'M WAY OVERDUE, but let me start with the good news I received yesterday from my oncologist and then I'll digress. Kenny and I headed to Tampa dragging myself to what I thought was my second to last weekly chemo. On top of that, I was certain that once Dr. Wright saw how bad my fingernails looked from the increasing neuropathy, that he would insist I take this week off to "come up for air" as he puts it. Last week when Tyler (my oldest son) took me to chemo, Linda my nurse said that they would give me chemo that day but the Dr. would probably have me skip the next. SO...I had been trying to mentally prep myself for three more weeks of this dragging on and to be honest, I didn't know if I could survive. But back to the good news! When he came in to the room I began asking him about my symptoms and was prepared to plead my case as to why I wanted to trudge on through and NOT skip a week, I could handle the discomfort, I just needed to get these last two overwith. We talked for a few minutes then, he looked on the computer and said that no, this was actually my last one. Kenny and I could hardly believe our ears. We made him double check several times assured he was mistaken. All three of us were all smiles. I think my exact words were "Praise the Lord, Holy Cow!" I couldn't wipe the smile off my face as we walked back to the infusion room and greeted the nurses with the good news. I had planned to bring goodies for the nurses on my last chemo and make it a celebration as many patients do, so I felt like I was totally unprepared for my "party". Kenny and I found an empty chair and shed a few tears at the moment knowing it would be my last time in that chair. He then made a sign on his laptop and took my picture to share on Facebook with friends and family.
I WAS DELIGHTED to be able to see three goods friends I'd made who were having chemo at the same time. A dear sweet Christian school teacher Betty battling lymphoma and it was her last day too. Linda, a sweet lady who we met early on and we would always look for each other. Then in came dear Pat, a powerhouse precious Christian lady battling breast cancer as well who always encouraged me that God was going to do it for both of us, to which I would reply, "I know it Pat, I believe it." I exchanged info. with each one and hope to keep in touch with these ladies who have become dear to me. There is a bond you can't explain until you've been there. The same with my nurses, especially Jean, who loved on me like a mother and call me "pretty lady". I won't miss chemo, but I WILL oddly miss going there and seeing all these precious people who were part of my fight. I go back to see the doctor in one month to do blood check and will then start my 5-yr. daily Tamoxifen pill, the next step in my arsenal to keep this nasty breasty cancer from coming back. More of that later.
THIS GOOD NEWS came in the nick of time for me as I said earlier, the last few weeks I hadn't even felt like sitting at the computer to blog, just didn't have the mental or physical energy. I barely made it to church and a few other outings with the help of pain pills. I would joyfully tell those who asked "how many more treatments", "two more weeks", to which they would understandably smile and say "Yah, just two more!". But inside I was dreading every minute, every hour of those two more weeks because the last three or four weeks had drug by and felt like an eternity, so much slower than the first half of my chemo. I know it was because my body and my mind and spirit had reached a low weak point. I'd take long hot baths to relieve the aches. I had been making a hard effort to walk almost every day down my road and back to try to get some exercise. The last week had become very hard as I was feeling myself getting weaker. I would take my time on my walks, cry out toward an open sky to God to let me feel his presence. I would talk to the cows and stop and smell the confederate jasmin on my neighbor's fence. I was bored, lonely, or going a little crazy, one or the other.
I'D SHARED WITH KENNY that I had been feeling peod, aggrivated, frustrated, even mad at God I guess or just in general. I tried hard not to let my family see this. Then it came to me, maybe God was hiding himself even, letting me get mad to bring out the grit I was needing to make it through those last weeks. I invisioned myself as Rocky Balboa in those infamous final bloody rounds in the ring. Where his eyes are all swollen, blood dripping from his lips, and his body too weak to continue. His short graspy voiced coach would antagonize him, and even get rough with him and make him get back in that ring. He didn't care if Rocky got mad at him in the process. I guess God's upheld palms are tough enough and loving enough to handle my fist jabs of anger if that's what I need the most.
I'M ALSO NOW CONVINCED that God foreknew where my breaking point would be, and weeks ago he let me get confused with my calendar of how many treatments I had left so that he could give me this refreshing pick-me-up of finding out that I was DONE ALREADY! According to my doctor, I'll feel like crap for about a month while this last chemo works its way out. And I know I have a long way to go yet with two surgeries and gaining back my strength and feeling over time, but its great to know I'm on my way back up and I can do this! Dr. Wright said I would be like Samson - my growing hair would be an outward indication of my returning strength. Grow hair grow!