Are we there yet?

The silence on this blog over the past couple months wasn't because I had nothing to say. There's ALWAYS something to say. But about half way through my chemo treatments, some time in February, my energy level dipped so low I barely had enough to get through my days ... let alone sit and think through a blog post. Even today, I don't know how clear I'll be. And I'm afraid I'm already using too many commas. I'm also afraid I'll try to cover too much ground in this one post ... a lot has happened in the past couple months. But I'll try and get my foggy mind to focus a bit ...

Almost exactly 48 hours ago I emerged from breast reconstructive surgery. The doctors said I did really well. Its nice to know I'm cooperative and strong, even when I'm unconscious. They sent me home bandaged up like a mummy, with the doctors notes in permanent ink still visible on my chest. I can't shower until after my doctor's appointment next Wednesday. Fortunately I have no hair to wash or worry about, and I don't intend on leaving the house in my mummy costume anyway. Last time we did this I had to wait THREE WEEKS to shower, and I had hair to worry about. So a little one-week stint of baby wipe baths doesn't scare me. I'll just pile on extra deodorant when necessary.

As I started to really pull out of the anesthesia on Thursday morning, I found myself tearing up. And for the rest of the day, as it really hit me what stage of "fighting cancer" I had reached, I couldn't help but let the tears come.

I made it. I made it through hard decisions, major surgery, chemotherapy, the loss of my hair, more chemotherapy, doctor's appointments, blood tests, serious lack of energy, digestive issues I won't go into, my nails separating from their nail beds, my eyebrows getting thinner and thinner and thinner, another surgery ... and then ... it's all over. Just like that. I'm done. All I have left to do is recover, heal, and move on. It's almost surreal, how quickly I've moved from "fighting cancer," to "cancer survivor."

Oh, I still have another month before my hair will start growing in. And, I have to wait four weeks before I can pick up my kids. The oncologist said to give it six months before I really feel like myself again, with all my energy back and those drugs fully out of my system. And I imagine there are some frustrating times right around the corner, as waiting for these things will be hard. But, again, it really is the end. Healing may take a while, but it's all that's left to do. I can't hardly believe I've actually reached the end. I beat cancer.

After all the work of the past 8 months, I think I might take the summer off.