Moving On

I have great news that I've been wanting to share since last Wednesday but I've been holding off in an effort to find the exact words. I had an appointment last Wednesday with my oncologist, Dr. McNamara, my hero. Steve made the appointment because we had the ominous prospect of the next dreaded round of chemotherapy looming over us. And everytime Steve wanted to talk to me about it, I told him I wasn't ready. I didn't want to sacrifice the positive, healing thoughts I was trying so hard to hold onto everyday and contaminate them with poisonous, toxic thoughts of chemotherapy. I told Steve that whatever Dr. McNamara decided in regard to my ongoing treatment, I would do. Dr. McNamara got me this far so I would put all my faith in him (and God of course). However, I've been praying since July 29th that I would never have to endure another round of chemo.

Mom and Dad went with us to the appointment. After everything we've all been through, I think they were as desperate as we were to have answers. We all wanted to know where we were headed. We waited in the examination room for Dr. McNamara. While waiting, the nurse took my blood pressure and pulse which were normal. I had so many issues with my BP and pulse in the last seven weeks that we were all happy to see normal numbers for a change. When the doctor came in, he seemed a little surprised to see me but when Steve explained why we were there, he was nothing but understanding. He seemed to truly understand our need for him to clarify what was next. But before I let him speak, I had to plead my case. I explained that I really didn't want to do anymore chemo and I couldn't understand why I would even need anymore chemo if the cancer they knew was there had been removed. Then I crossed my fingers and held my breath when it was his turn to tell me what treatment I needed next.

He agreed with me! He said that I've had 7 rounds of chemo which, in theory, should be enough to kill any microscopic cancer. He explained that if the microscopic cancer was not eliminated with 7 rounds of chemo then there was no evidence to suggest that it would be eliminated if I had 5 more rounds. Basically, now we wait and see what happens next. And if I remain cancer free for 5 years then they will consider me cured. So I'm done. I'M DONE!!! I will have scans every six months in the beginning and taper off to yearly scans. And I will always have yearly colonoscopies.

We left the appointment not knowing what to say or what to think. We were definitely happy for sure. We were ecstatic and grateful to say the least. But I think we're all still in shock in some ways. This has been our way of life for the last nine months...surgeries, doctor's appointments, infusions, more surgeries. Steve's mom and my mom and dad lived with us more than they lived in their own homes. And now the doctor was saying it was over. He said, "You did beautifully. In the beginning we could have only hoped we'd end up here." I battled and battled. And now the battle is over. Even as my fingers type the words I can't believe it.

I'm afraid to say I've won the battle for fear I will appear too arrogant. If no one hears me knock on wood what will happen? I'm afraid I will lose sight of where I've been, or forget how grateful I've been for all the miracles, for this miracle. There's a lot of fear that comes with being done with treatment. Steve feels it too. We ran into the kids' pediatrician, Dr. G., the one who battled breast cancer a year ago. She never tells people she beat her cancer. Instead she says she's done with treatment and her doctor will be monitoring her closely. I think I will just say I'm done. That was something I did. I battled cancer and I'm done with that and now it's time to move on.