On Sunday I took my final chemo pills! I am glad to be done and, quite frankly, surprised that I have weathered this grueling 6-month chemo protocol so well.
I expected that I would feel elated, free, joyous and a host of other positive emotions, but I haven’t felt the joy that I was expecting. Perhaps it is because I was completely exhausted throughout the entire weekend or perhaps it is because it doesn’t feel like it is truly over.
My friend Brent, who is also a doctor, told me that he wasn’t all that surprised about my feelings. His comment was that just like I was in shock going in to this experience, it would make sense that there would be a bit of a shock ending it as well. He assured me that soon enough I would be restarting my life and as the time passed that I will be able to move on. I am hopeful that after my CT scan at the end of August that I will be given the “all clear,” I can remove the port and then I can truly celebrate!
On another positive note, I wanted to alert you to the headlines regarding my fellow cancer patient, Patrick Swayze. He is calling his response to treatment for his pancreatic cancer “a miracle.” In case you didn’t know, Patrick is being treated by my oncologist, Dr. George Fisher! Dr. Fisher is also the President-Elect of the American Cancer Society, California Division. Did I mention that I think he’s pretty incredible?
One thing that I’ve realized throughout this process is the importance of believing in your treatment and in your caregivers. It was reassuring to me to work with a medical team that I truly believed would give me the best chance at life. I will always be grateful for not only the competent care but also the kindness that I received from Dr. Fisher and his team throughout this horrendous time in my life.
I’m also grateful to Pat for all of the positive encouragement and endless support he has given me throughout this process. And to each one of you—whose kind words, prayers, meals, and endless generosity have sustained me over these past seven months!
Over the next few months I will be focused on regaining my energy. I’m looking forward to the day that the neuropathy in my fingers and toes dissipates and I will suffer less from “chemo-brain” problems.
This is the beginning of the rest of my life. It is now up to me to determine how to make sure that the extra time that I have been given - thanks to modern medicine, acupuncture, and an amazing support network - is used wisely and results in making the world a better place.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Reflections on Tony Snow
On Saturday, when I heard about Tony Snow’s death from colon cancer, I was truly shaken. I wasn’t a big fan of Tony’s and, quite frankly, I didn’t even remember until Saturday that he had colon cancer. But, when I learned of his death, I felt a strange and very sad kinship with him as a fellow “young” person with colon cancer. His death has rocked me to my core.
Tony died from a relapse of colon cancer. He had already completed a six-month round of chemo and been given the "all clear." That’s where I hope to be in the next two weeks. But the next part of the story is something that I will always fear—after many months of health, a relapse of colon cancer was detected in his liver and his fight to stay alive started all over again.
Tony Snow’s story has given me renewed vigor to beat colon cancer—once and for all.
I’ve decided that over these next several months, I need to truly focus my time and energy on becoming healthy again. Because I’ve done so well throughout my chemo treatments compared to many others, I had forgotten that I am facing a formidable adversary – one who can easily take my life.
Many of you know that I have faced cancer with everything available to me. Not just chemotherapy, but acupuncture, natural medicine and mental healing. While books on healing have stacked up on my bookshelf, I have not devoted very much time to them. More often than not I’ve tried to keep myself busy to avoid thinking about it, rather than deal with it head on.
Looking at my children this past weekend – who turned 5 on July 8th – I realized that they deserve to have a mother. It is my absolute responsibility to do everything in my power to maximize the likelihood that I will be around to help them grow into strong, vibrant women. I want to be there; not just to see them start kindergarten, but for their high school and college graduations, their weddings and to help them raise their own children.
On Sunday night I began my final round of chemotherapy. The neuropathy in my fingers is quite bothersome and the skin on my feet is now blistering and peeling due to the cumulative impacts of chemo. While I cannot wait for this journey to end, I now know that it will never truly be over. I will always be looking over my shoulder hoping that cancer is not creeping back into my life.
This is the life of the cancer survivor.
I hear from many survivors that eventually this all consuming worry lessens and isn’t a part of your daily existence. Some people have told me that they now go weeks— or even months—without thinking about cancer.
That’s hard to imagine now, but I look forward to that day.
Tony died from a relapse of colon cancer. He had already completed a six-month round of chemo and been given the "all clear." That’s where I hope to be in the next two weeks. But the next part of the story is something that I will always fear—after many months of health, a relapse of colon cancer was detected in his liver and his fight to stay alive started all over again.
Tony Snow’s story has given me renewed vigor to beat colon cancer—once and for all.
I’ve decided that over these next several months, I need to truly focus my time and energy on becoming healthy again. Because I’ve done so well throughout my chemo treatments compared to many others, I had forgotten that I am facing a formidable adversary – one who can easily take my life.
Many of you know that I have faced cancer with everything available to me. Not just chemotherapy, but acupuncture, natural medicine and mental healing. While books on healing have stacked up on my bookshelf, I have not devoted very much time to them. More often than not I’ve tried to keep myself busy to avoid thinking about it, rather than deal with it head on.
Looking at my children this past weekend – who turned 5 on July 8th – I realized that they deserve to have a mother. It is my absolute responsibility to do everything in my power to maximize the likelihood that I will be around to help them grow into strong, vibrant women. I want to be there; not just to see them start kindergarten, but for their high school and college graduations, their weddings and to help them raise their own children.
On Sunday night I began my final round of chemotherapy. The neuropathy in my fingers is quite bothersome and the skin on my feet is now blistering and peeling due to the cumulative impacts of chemo. While I cannot wait for this journey to end, I now know that it will never truly be over. I will always be looking over my shoulder hoping that cancer is not creeping back into my life.
This is the life of the cancer survivor.
I hear from many survivors that eventually this all consuming worry lessens and isn’t a part of your daily existence. Some people have told me that they now go weeks— or even months—without thinking about cancer.
That’s hard to imagine now, but I look forward to that day.
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