Sixth (and Final) Chemo Treatment

I had what I hope is my final chemo treatment on Thursday, November 16, nine days ago.

I’m not sure why, but the after-effects have been much less intense than they were for the previous treatments. I had a few days of feeling nauseous, exhausted, and having that awful chemical taste in my mouth. Then it mostly all cleared up and I’ve been fine ever since, except for some lingering fatigue and the ever-present neuropathy. I don’t know whether it was better this time because I was in better shape, having built myself up a little bit with the supplements, or because of my extremely positive frame of mind, or a little of both.

It’s hard to express the relief I feel to be finished. I am virtually euphoric. Now, within just a few weeks, I should be able to start seeing my hair grow back and start feeling like I’m getting more energy back. My body can heal now without getting knocked back down by another treatment. (This all assumes the next CT scan shows up clear, of course. More on that in a minute.)

My oncologist, Dr. Hussain, says that it may take up to three months to completely recover. She says I have anemia caused by the chemo, and it takes awhile for that to clear up. As for the neuropathy, it could also take up to three months, and it may not clear up at all. She said I should get a physical in three months to see how everything looks.

We had an amiable final visit. I like her a lot, and I’ve enjoyed getting to know the nurses in the Infusion Center at Kaiser in Gaithersburg, especially Jane who handled four of my six treatments. I joked with them that it was a pleasure working with them, but I hoped they would understand that I hope I never see them again. They laughed good-naturedly, but they probably hear that joke a lot.

I learned, though, that I’m not quite done with them. They recommend leaving the port in for at least three months, just in case further treatments are necessary, and it has to be flushed monthly, which I will have done in the Infusion Center.

Next on the agenda: CT scan this coming Thursday, November 30. Then Bruce and I will go meet with Dr. Salzman on December 12 to find out the results of the CT scan and what happens next. Dr. Hussain said that even if everything is clear, I will probably have to be monitored every three months for awhile. I don’t know whether that monitoring will include a CT scan each time. We’ll find out on December 12.

As a friend recently remarked, I have a lot to process now as we approach the end of the year and go through the holidays, which tend to be emotional, introspective times for me anyway. My life has changed significantly in the last six months. It’s difficult having this Sword of Damocles hanging over my head, knowing I will have to continue to be monitored and will probably never be declared officially cured.

But people who experience cancer nearly always find a silver lining. If nothing else, the shadow of death causes life to suddenly show up in vivid colors. Each moment becomes more precious. I’m spending more time wondering whether I’ve contributed anything of value to this world that might live on when I’m gone. I have a stronger sense of God’s presence than ever before, and I’m working harder at cultivating that relationship with Him. I cherish other relationships, with husband, family, and friends, more than ever. Those are the things that will live on after I’m gone.

I dream, as I’ve dreamed nearly all my life, of writing the Great American Novel, but even that would have a limited lifespan unless I suddenly morphed into a Charles Dickens or Jane Austen. But following some of those lifelong dreams has also become more important to me. Even if they never amount to anything, it’s important to respect our dreams and pursue them. We can’t know what plans God might have for us.

And there is the added benefit that our attitudes have a great deal of influence on how our cancer journey progresses. If I’m following my dreams, if I’m feeling fulfilled and content, I have a much better long-term prognosis than I would otherwise.

Now that I’m done with chemo (I hope), I can get on with other topics I want to talk about in this blog. For one thing, I’m compiling some resources I want to share. And maybe now I can devote more time to doing additional research. I’m also aware of my tendency to give in to denial, and I know there will be days when I don’t want to think about cancer, let alone come here and post anything. But I’ll have to fight that urge. I want this blog to not only be a record of my own journey, but to be a helpful resource for others who might be walking a similar path. So, to the best of my ability, I will continue to devote time and energy to this even if I get a clean bill of health on December 12.