Is the End (of Chemo) Near?

Last week's chemo could be my last. I'm so happy I could explode. The thought of getting my eyelashes and eyebrows back makes me very happy. I'm also excited about getting normal fingernails and toenails again. Right now I look like that guy from the movie “Powder” and it’s not a good look, haha. I don't really care about my head hair though. I've gotten spoiled not having to straighten and style my hair every day so the wig has been nice! When my hair comes back, I’m keeping it short. I'm trying really hard not to get too excited though. I've seen/heard how mean cancer can be and it always comes back. Some day, whether it's next Tuesday, next year, or five years from now, I'll likely be back in chemo again. BUT, at least there are lots of treatment options available for me. I can't imagine what it would feel like for my doctor to tell me that there is nothing else he can do. He's never come close to saying that. He always points out that if I have a recurrence, there are lots of options. So I keep thinking positive thoughts, praying, and trying to keep my body healthy and ready to fight.

I had a CAT scan today, so I guess that's why emotions are high right now. I'll find out the results on Tuesday 4/12. I've been feeling good and haven't had any new symptoms. In addition, since my liver was declared clear, I've remained in the same treatment. I really doubt I have new growth anywhere. However, the fear is still there and I guess that will never go away.

My leg continues to be a pain in the butt - and back, haha. I'm still on a cane, but I get around pretty good. I'm working in the office almost every day and I go out with my husband and family. Life goes on, and I want it to be as normal as possible. So I just keep going.

Hmm, just keep going. That reminds me of a weird experience I had very early in my journey. Right after the first mammogram, they called me back to take a second look. While I was in the waiting room, I was totally unconcerned and actually felt guilty for sitting among so many sickly women. I felt unworthy to even be in the same room because I was convinced there was nothing wrong with me. Well, an elderly woman was sitting across from me with her daughter. It was obvious that her daughter was a BC survivor because she had what I now have: a bulge on one side and total flatness on the other. The daughter did not talk but her mom told me all about her daughter's experience and how she was back because she had found a lump in her remaining breast. Then she looked directly into my eyes and said, "never never never give up, no matter what..." I looked at her for a second, not really knowing how to respond. After all, I wasn't sick dammit. I was there for a second look, just to be safe. But she meant well, so I smiled and said "thank you very much" and kept smiling. She was sweet, so I didn't want to be dismissive or rude. Several months later after I had the mastectomy, found out that I hadn't caught it in time, and realized I was probably going to die from breast cancer, I thought of that woman. I realized that her daughter never talked to her or even looked to her left to acknowledge her mother's presence. Then I thought, could she have been an angel? Was I the only one who could see her or hear her? I didn't think anything about it at the time, but I've thought a LOT about it over the past year. It gives me great comfort to think of her, whether she was an angel or not. She was right. Never give up!