
rereading my journal. on january 10, 2009, the day before chemo started, i wrote:
"saying goodbye to so many things for such a long time. i'm scared and it's all so surreal. life really will change tomorrow, much more than after my surgery. much, much more. am i naive to think i won't let this treatment get me down? am i defenseless against it? so hard to imagine all this. i hate not knowing how my body will be in four months after chemo and then three months later after radiation. i have a determination to not let it attack me and take my life away. i hope i can be strong. after treatment i'm going to travel and take photos again. free time. is there such a thing as free time?"
and today i am finished with treatment, on the other side of all those questions and fears seven months ago. and, yes, chemo did certainly get me down and kept me down for quite a while. but i was lucky that all the side effects went away very soon, and radiation has been a breeze. i feel just as energetic as i did before treatment. in 9 days i'll be on a plane to texas, in 67 days i'll be at the ocean again for a week, and in 106 days on a plane to paris.
i can't believe it's over! i think of all the people i've met since my diagnosis who i would never, ever have met otherwise - it feels like an entire lifetime has passed in ten months and i'm starting all over again, with a new set of friends, a new set of eyes, definitely a new body, and a very new awareness about living.
thank you for interacting with me all these months, for supporting me and encouraging me, for making me laugh, for being there. you've been such an enormous part of my healing, and i am so grateful we have made a connection. i want to keep writing when things come up about love, cancer, etc., as i slide into this new life, and definitely when i have follow-up visits with my doctor. i celebrated today with bobbi gillis, my nurse navigator who has been by my side every single day since we met in november, and will celebrate with my family, and later tonight i'll go out on my porch and rock in my rocking chair and watch the mountains grow dark and say "thank you, thank you, thank you" over and over again to everyone who's helped me get to this wonderful end of treatment.
xoxxoxoxo

