I've never been more relieved or felt prouder of an accomplishment than I do to be FINISHED with Chemotherapy.
It was hard fought. Between the seventh and final infusion, I hit an all time low mentally/emotionally/physically. I wasn't rebounding my strength and couldn't understand why I was so knocked down. I wanted to work...be a wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend...but my body would not cooperate. It seemed to me that my mind and desire should prevail and win the battle but it was losing. I walked into the final chemo treatment still sick and a little frightened about what that meant.
Alan and I went to the appointment together. Dr Legant reviewed my numbers and everything looked fine. I had a new symptom related to the neuropathy. My foot was 'falling to sleep' when I was sitting and when I went to stand up - it didn't respond. So...I fell. Not a big deal but was the beginning of my fingers and toes going numb/cold. Dr. Legant was concerned but decided that since we were at the end...we should continue with the last treatment.
Treatment was uneventful - other than the final certificate of completion and gift of a blanket to celebrate. The infusion team has become like family and it was a sweet little moment.
Now we have other events to look forward to as well. The port is removed on Thursday. :) I'm so excited to have it gone. March 12th we meet with Dr. Gaffney and prepare for the start of radiation.
It feels like I should wax philosophical...and while I could share all of the learnings from this experience so far...I'll refrain. Suffice it to say...I've learned a great deal and while I can't yet say I'm grateful for the experience...I recognize that I am forever changed by it. Mostly for the better.
I am humbled and grateful for friends and family who have literally carried me along. As my strength and determination would start to ebb...they have been there with a thoughtful note, phone call, email, gift or activity to look forward to. My bedroom is even decorated for 'Spring' and is bright and sunny thanks to our friends. It makes me smile every time I look at it.
I'm also grateful for the love and support of a good man. He has been there to hold me when I cry and whisper together about our hopes/dreams as well as our fears before going to sleep at night. He's listened to every symptom and minor complaint without trying to fix anything...just listened. I would never have chosen to put him through the last 6 months but there is no one I would have wanted by my side more. I love you, Alan.
So the journey continues and I look forward to the milestones ahead - finishing radiation, the second mastectomy and reconstruction surgery. Working out and feeling healthy! And HAIR!
Hello Nannette,
ReplyDeleteCongratulations on completing your chemotherapy. That was indeed a major milestone that you have accomplished. Before I go on, let me introduce myself. I am Karen Clark from California. I am Frankie Littleford (aka: Jennifer Golding) aunt and I have read your blog and prayed for you and your family while you have been on this journey. I was diagnosed a little over a year ago with metastatic breast cancer or as my oncologist put it, head to to toe cancer. Because the cancer was so widespread, the only option I had was to undergo a very aggressive chemotherapy treatment. I was on the so called emotional "roller coaster" ride which unfortunately is part of the chemo treatment and the fact that you have/had cancer. I was delighted and felt great when I completed my last chemo. Rest assured, your hair will start growing back in about a month. Mine did, but God surprised me with white and straight hair instead of the brown and wavy look that I prayed to God for. Oh well, I suspect God was sleeping when my hair request came in. Anyhow, take it slowly with regards to your lifestyle (ie. exercising, working, cooking,etc). You will learn to deal with your physical limitations and come up with innovative ideas on how to accomplish everyday tasks. The neuropathy will slowly vanish from your hands and feet. I remembered as I went throught the chemo treatments I lost my sense of taste and smell. Losing my hair was not as traumatic as losing my sense of taste and being able to enjoy a simple meal. Eventually, those senses returned about two months after my last chemo, but it sure made it hard for me to enjoy food.
Well, enough small talk from me. Again, I applaud you for completing all of your chemotherapy treatments and I will keep you and your family in my daily prayers. Just so you know, MarghiD is Jennifer's aunt Margaret Doermann in San Dimas, CA. She has allowed me to use her Google address. Do take care and when you see Jennifer, give her a hug from the Clarks in California.
Karen