Tomorrow is my last chemotherapy treatment. I felt like this day would never come and frankly, I am dumbfounded that it only took this long. I was expecting it to be so much longer! I am not really sure how to feel about all of this. It almost feels premature in a way or surreal. How could it be gone so quickly? In November, Ah there it is...the little bastards invading my mediastinum (fancy doctor word for 'chest')and a few months later suddenly, POOF! nothing to be seen on the PET scan.
Ahh the miracles of modern medicine..
David and I were talking in the car one afternoon and he said, "You know, one day chemotherapy is going to seem like a barbaric treatment option for cancer patients". I sure hope so, because it really, REALLY sucks! I wouldn't wish chemo even on my worst enemy. I hate my port; it hurts, it itches, it rubs against my seatbelt when I drive, it hurts to access it, sometimes it doesn't like to work. I hate having anyone even get a glimpse of it, so I'm always aware of it's presence. I have to wear scarves or high necked t-shirts to cover it up. I really hate it and I am on the edge of my seat, wondering when they're going to remove the damned thing from me. I don't like how it shows through the skin on my neck when I turn my head. It makes me look like my jugular is popping out... I know I have to keep it for a while, but I hope that I don't have to keep it TOO long.
I have my radiation appointment on the 3rd of March. This is just to talk to the doctor about their plans and to map out my body for the radiation machine. I get to have a fancy mold of my body made just for ME! I wonder if they'll let me take it home later as some sort of postmodern art piece. Sometimes they give patients a bunch of little dot tattoos that help guide the machine... I wonder if they're going to give one to me? I guess I'll have to learn to love them, right? Talk about tattoo regret.
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