This is Chapter 5 in the Cancer Memoir. Catch up with previous chapters here.
Can you believe that fall is here? It’s wild to me how fast, but sometimes slow, this year has felt. I spent the first five months of 2024 going to the cancer center for chemotherapy. I don’t miss getting chemo infusions, but I do really miss the people— in particular my chemo nurses.
Walking into the cancer center for my last chemo session is a memory I will never forget. Like many of you, we are a military family with no family nearby; it meant so much to me that my mom and dad made the 16-hour road trip from Texas to be with me on my special day.
May 30, 2024, was my last day of chemo. Jeremy and I drove up to the cancer center; like always, I checked in, gave my care team their weekly, “Thank You for Saving My Life” donuts, and got my wristband, sticker sheet and bloodwork. I was carrying my water cup, and over my left shoulder was my chemo bag, but this time, under my arm, I was holding my “Last Day of Chemo” sign.
To be honest, this day really did sneak up on me. I went from thinking, ” Oh man, how am I going to complete 16 rounds?” to, “OMG, I have three rounds left!” Once I completed the four rounds of AC, the weekly Taxol rounds seemed to fly by. My body struggled to keep up with the weekly treatments, and I was not able to get treatment two times. But here I was—I made it—number 16, the last one.
I was so excited but also terrified, thinking, “What if I can’t have treatment today? What if my liver is having a hard time again? What if this is the day my white blood cells drop too low?” The mental ping-pong match that plays inside your mind during this journey is a trip. The back and forth of emotions one minute, when you are fearful of getting your chemo treatment, and then the next minute, you want nothing more than to be able to actually have your chemo treatment. I was ready. I wanted more than anything to complete this chapter of my life.
Completing this chapter of my breast cancer journey was not a victory just for me; it was a victory for my husband, my children, my family, co-workers and friends. All the Prayer Warriors, my Bucking Up Club, a brigade of weekly card senders, my local (and far away) community of Food Angels, and my very special social media community. This day, this milestone was a victory for all of us.
Hopping into the chemo chair my blood pressure was through the roof! My wonderful nurse had me sit for about 30 minutes to calm my nerves down, and it worked. Here I was, getting hooked up and pre-meds about to start. It was a beautiful, sunny day. I could not sit still, so Jeremy and I made a couple of laps around the cancer center and went and sat outside. Sitting outside and having the sun’s warmth hit my face, so many emotions and thoughts swept over me. One, in particular, was how would I get the strength to say goodbye to these wonderful nurses who truly are my heroes?
My machine started to beep at me, letting me know my pre-meds were done, and it was time to go inside to receive my last round of Taxol. During chemo infusions, only one person is allowed with you, so Jeremy and my mom switched places. It was nice to have this time with my mom. I know that watching my journey from Texas had to be hard for her. Usually, my machine would make its last beeps to let my nurses know my bag was empty of Taxol. This time I was suddenly surrounded by my group of nurses singing to me, “Hit the Road Jack!” Holding back my tears, I laughed and hugged each of my nurses. No words were needed; they understood this moment better than anyone. I did it! We did it! I was on my way to ring the bell!
Walking out of the cancer center, I was surrounded by my mom, dad, Jeremy, and our children, and I rang the crap out of that bell!
Ringing the bell marked the end of my chemotherapy treatment, but not the end of my cancer fight. Leading up to this day I got asked a lot, you’re done, right after this…? Nope… right after ringing the bell I was in the office of my plastic surgeon’s office to talk next steps.
May 30 will forever be a day celebrated in our family. Just like a birthday, Christmas, anniversary, or Homecoming from a deployment, this day, this milestone, small as it might be on this long cancer road, was the first victory on my cancer journey and is a date to remember and celebrate!
Let’s celebrate more life milestones! Drop below a victory or milestone in your life so we can celebrate you!
Until next Friday, my friends, shine on!