Fabulous finale (or, how I convinced my father to wear a wig)

She rearranged her schedule to be with me at every single chemo. She bought these shirts especially for this last one.

Me and my sister, Monique, who rearranged her schedule to be with me at every single chemo. She bought these shirts especially for this last one.

Barb took time off her lunch to come and see me; she was basically holding me up at this point because the Benadryl was doing its work, along with the Ativan.

Barb took time off her lunch to come and see me; she was basically holding me up at this point because the Benadryl was doing its work, along with the Ativan.

Me and two good friends, Marlene and Cheri. Cheri postponed her flight home so that she could be part of this.

Me and two good friends, Marlene and Cheri. Cheri postponed her flight home so that she could be part of this. Marlene has promised to be my paddling partner this fall.

Kristi, Rebekah, me and Rike - Rike is in town for a few months and is the same one who flew in to surprise me at my pre-surgery party.

Kristi, Rebekah, me and Rike – Rike is in town for a few months and is the same one who flew in to surprise me at my pre-surgery party. Rebekah is one of my trail walking partners, and Kristi and I have known each other since we were 14.

Me and my boys, and yes. My father, maybe a little unimpressed that he's wearing my glamour wig. Love.

Me and my boys, and yes. My father, maybe a little unimpressed that he’s wearing my glamour wig. Love.

Tiffany and me - she rocks this wig at disco parties as well.

Tiffany and me – she rocks this wig at disco parties as well. This is the girl referred to as my bff, or bestie, or best friend. She is all of these things.

Ally is the one who drove my children to and from school from the time of my diagnosis on. Erica met me for coffees and saved me during emergency crying jags at the hospital after traumatizing appointments.

Ally is the one who drove my children to and from school from the time of my diagnosis on. Erica met me for coffees and saved me during emergency crying jags at the hospital after traumatizing appointments.

Cheers. It's a shame that this one is blurry. Back at my place, we gathered for some well-deserved Prosecco. My parents have been absolute rocks for me from day of diagnosis. I am thankful.

Cheers. It’s a shame that this one is blurry. Back at my place, we gathered for some well-deserved Prosecco. My parents have been absolute rocks for me from day of diagnosis. I am thankful.

I hope everyone is okay with me sharing their details in such a public way. I needed to give just a glimpse into how supportive and wonderful these people I am lucky enough to call friends and family truly are. I am a lucky, lucky woman. There are others who showed up, fully costumed, who I didn’t get pictures of. It’ll come.

Chemotherapy is done. My PICC line is out. I had one day of energy in front of me before I knew the side effects would kick in.

Any guesses to how I filled my day?

Glorious. Stay tuned.

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3 thoughts on “Fabulous finale (or, how I convinced my father to wear a wig)

  1. I have been following your blog since you began it. It has been thoughtful,inspiring, and heart touching. Congratulations on finishing your chemo! I wish you only the very best and know you will be running those trails soon. Your children and family must be so proud of you and so are all of us who have been following your journey.

    • Congratulations on finishing chemo & staying so upbeat through it all-you are a model for all to follow-Good luck through the next steps

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