Take a listen:
Most of my chemo has come to an end. I do have the trial drug, Herceptin, to receive until April. One full year of it. And I meet with the oncology radiologist next week to discuss radiation therapy. And then there's my upcoming hysterectomy which was planned and scheduled right before my diagnosis and had to be postponed. But that was prophylactic, there were no cancer cells. So I will still be having that done over the next month or so.
Even though my white count never fell out of the normal range throughout chemo, my resistance is very low and I seem to be picking up every bug that hops by. Most recently I got Influenza B and ended up in the hospital for a week earlier this month. It knocked me on my butt.
I'm really working on gaining my strength back following chemo. The fatigue is such a difficult, insidious opponent. It is a seemingly tangible weight, that if only you could reach inside and grab it with your fingers and shake it off. It hangs heavy on bones and muscles and, your heart. The wounds are both visible and invisible. Things have come undone. Things have burst open and revealed more. Phrases like live one day at a time and live in the moment have become important truths rather than boring cliches to me. Archangel Raphael has become my guy. I keep it simple. I've just begun encouraging myself to walk daily again and to shake the sadnesses off my heart. Both are difficult at times. Both are completely manageable. I'm in kind of a day on/day off pattern of existence. A full day of activity then a full day of rest.
It's going to be a road unto itself on the way back out. It is a place where I am going to accept my weakened strength and feelings and emotions as my truth and just honor them out of existence.
I've been through a lot. And I love myself for it. I love myself for my courage and hope and determination. I love life. And I am wiggling through the fog and gossamer webs of silenced illness and reacquainting my feet with this earthen path.
I see good things ahead.