Final Chemo - Infusion #12

6 months ago I started this journey.  And while today doesn’t mark the end, by any means, it is the beginning of a new chapter.  As I close the door to this round of chemo (completing a total of 12 treatments in all), I open the door to the next phase in my journey.  For now, I savor in the fact that I don’t have to return for chemo in 2 weeks, that my hair and energy levels should start to increase over the next 3-6 months and that I can remove my port and hopefully my right arm will return to normal.  I’ve been waiting for this day for the past 6 months and it finally arrived. 

How befitting that I arise at 5 am with blue skies and the sun shining through the window.  It’s going to be a good day.  The aroma of chocolate chip cookies still lingers from the night before.  They were already packaged and prepared for delivery to all of the wonderful people at the infusion center, who shared their kindness and compassion to clear the path, so that my journey progressed smoothly.   At 6:30 am, I finally thrust myself out of bed and onto the treadmill (for a brief walk).  With a joyful heart, my treadmill led me along a lake and through the streets of Lovatnet, Norway (with the help of iFit and google maps, I can walk or run anywhere in the world).  

After showering and applying the EMLA cream to the skin overlying my port, I prepared myself for this glorious day.  The question still ran through my head, “What if my counts aren’t high enough?” First of all, I can’t imagine they wouldn’t be as we’ve set a pretty low threshold. Secondly, what’s a few days of delay at this stage in the journey.  If nothing else, I’ll get to visit with the people who have been so good to me and made a potentially miserable experience quite pleasant.  I will miss conversing with K, my infusion nurse, as she pushed the colorful toxins into my vessels.  We would talk about family, friends, book recommendations and life in general.  We would laugh together, challenge each other and occasionally she’d ask my opinion about a medical issue, which were generally simple questions, but validated my years of medical training and kept me on my toes.  I will miss seeing her smiling face every 2 weeks, but I know where I can find her!

My ANC remains at a whopping 300 (normal 2,000 – 7,300).  When the laboratory called my infusion nurse with this critically low value, she was elated.  They were confused.  Knowing that I was displaying no signs of infection and that we had continued the infusions at levels below 300 in the past, we both knew this meant proceeding with my final infusion today.  Pharmacy staff were notified and the pre-medications and chemotherapeutic drugs were mixed into IV bags and syringes for the final execution of any remaining, pestilent cancer cells. 

My beautiful and fabulous care team! 

Rather than describing the infusion process again, which has been discussed in previous blog entries, I will elaborate on the differences between today and the previous infusion dates.  We were all set to start infusions by 10:15 (after our 9 am arrival, blood draw, and pharmacy prep).  Everything was verified, as usual, except the pharmacy added little notes to the effect of, “Happy last day of chemo,” and “You did it!”  Excitement exuded from me and all involved in my care over the past 6 months.  The chocolate chip cookies I baked the previous evening, were placed at the unit hub, so all could enjoy.  Every one of them, from the medical assistant (MA) taking my vitals, to the pharmacist and lab personnel behind the scenes, they all played an active, vital role in my well-being throughout this cancer journey.  The way they work as a team, their relentless compassion, meticulous attention to detail and sheer joyfulness to which they forge through the day, diminished the sting of cancer.

The time flew by quicker than ever before.  The last infusion was completed by 1 pm.   We elected to return home for lunch as my hunger was thwarted by the excitement of it all.   I’m not sure the reality of this last chemo day has truly registered yet, particularly since the IV Benadryl riddled me with grogginess and dry mouth.  I could barely keep my eyes ajar and immediately plunged back into a deep sleep upon returning home.    My heart is full of love and appreciation today, for answered prayers, for the health and strength to make it through, for terrific friends supporting me through words, cards, flowers, walks and fantastic meals and for amazing care providers whom I entrusted my life and who kept me on course to be the survivor I am today.  Yes, this chapter is complete.  Now, I move on to the next chapter of healing, strengthening, giving back and fulfilling God’s plans for me.  This chapter in my life has become a stepping stone, directing me to more exciting adventures and insightful experiences.  Many more pages will be turned, before my book is complete.  

Piglet noticed that even though he had a very small heart, it could hold a rather large amount of gratitude.  ~ A.A. Milne

Today I close the door to the past, open the door to the future, take a deep breath, step on through and start a new chapter in my life.  ~ Unknown

 

January 15, 2016 - First Chemo treatment to June 17, 2016 - Last Chemo treatment