Day Whatever: My Final Post!
Well faithful readership, it’s over. On Monday morning, I finished my final treatment (to the tune of Vitamin C’s Graduation Song, courtesy of my oh-so-funny technician team). I rang the proton center’s Bell of Hope, then my mom and I were on the road. I slept 80% of the 5 hour car ride home, 2 more hours on my favorite couch, and 9 more that night. I think I needed sleep.
So, what now? Well, as far as prognosis goes, things are looking VERY good. The chances of this thing coming back are about 1%. My first follow-up MRI will be in 6 months. If nothing has changed, I’ll say, “Thank you, doctor. I’ll see you in 6 months.” After my second 6-month follow up, I’ll wait another year. So, aside from a couple of extra doctor appointments each year, my life should be pretty normal from here on out. That is very comforting.
If you’re wondering about me personally, well THAT’S NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS. Just kidding. If you’re reading this blog, you’ve either A) spoken to me recently enough to know my plans or B) are a friend of my mother and she has told you ever detail about my life. If you don’t fall into either of those categories, then I’ll let you in. Like the plot of a cheesy Lifetime movie, this year has inspired me to enter healthcare. I want to learn about the body and use my knowledge and skills to help people when they’re at their weakest. Don’t ask me for details just yet, because, well, they don’t exist yet :).
All in all, or in conclusion, or whatever the appropriate phrase is to begin the last paragraph I’ll write for this blog, these past seven weeks have definitely changed me, but it’ll be a little while before I can articulate how. They were marked by some rough patches, but right now I feel excited. I feel like I’ve been given my life back. I’ve been through hard times, and I’ve met so many people going through equally hard, if not harder, times. But these experiences have left me with an appreciation for how fragile life can be, and when I say “left me with an appreciation” I mean they have emotionally scarred me into never forgetting how fragile life can be. At least I hope I never forget.
Thirty-five treatments down, ZERO to go.
Thanks for reading everyone! And for your support. It’s meant the world to me.