Can NOT believe it

I have one day of treatment to go. One more day of checking in, putting on my gown, and waiting to be called. One more day of laying on that table, hands over my head, to be lazered. I am so excited!

It's slightly anti-climactic, since I have to go in Friday to meet with the neurologist...but still. :-)

Many of you have asked about the neuropathy. It is getting worse, but I am remaining hopeful it won't be permanent. I would describe its affects again--but why beat a dead horse? Most of you already know about the sore hands and feet, etc. The reason I'm seeing the neurologist is to get a thorough assessment of the problem, and ask some questions concerning long term prognosis, medication, and alternative therapy (herbs, acupuncture). I will let you know what he says. I'd like to take as little of the Lyrica as possible--the drug I take for the nerve pain. It makes me feel kind of sloooow. (yawn) And my wedding ring is permanently embedded in my finger. (swollen) But it's undeniable that it helps with the pain. I know because I have forgotten to take it. (ouch!)

But back to the way more exciting topic. The end of cancer treatment.

I have weathered the radiation very well. I am burnt, and I sit at home with my shirt unbuttoned like a garage mechanic at five pm. But my lungs don't hurt, and thus far, I don't know of any long term mal-affects.

What will I do with my freed-up time...? Recuperate. Exercise. Visit. Write. Paint. (I am repainting a piece of furniture I've always wanted to paint as soon as my skin can stand the heat.) I will not be bored.

Being finished with treatment...being cancer-free...I can't describe the feeling. I feel happy. Relieved. Almost elated. But there's also this odd sensation. Imagine you just gave a speech. Then you asked your audience, "Any questions?" and no one had any. You're finished with your speech, though. So you just kind of...fade out. "Ok. Well, thanks."

Yes, that's it. A strange odd finish to a huge undertaking. No drum roll. No big goodbyes with your doctors and nurses. Just life as usual. Just walking out of the building, others walking in, like every other day, except today your treatment is done.

It's odd. But it's really, really good.