Walking it off

Prepping for the next phase of this trip has been interesting to say the least. A friend remarked yesterday that the emotions couldn’t possibly be simple, that they must be complex and that in some ways finishing chemo has to make for some complicated processing and some purposeful self-talk. 

Correct. One would think it would be cause only for celebration, that there couldn’t possibly be part of me that would NOT want chemo to end.

Not so. Of course I’m happy to be done with those sessions, and I am looking forward to NOT going to the hospital to get hooked up this coming Tuesday.

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(I have a collection of Pondering Pool cards – came across this one just this week and had to laugh.)

That said, it also means that there is no longer a drug racing around in my body killing off any nasty hangers-on. Scary. At no point has anyone offered to check, or to scan me to see if there’s anything left that could cause damage. The scans that terrified me at the beginning of my treatment are now tests for which I long. I want someone to tell me there’s no sign of anything happening. I want someone to tell me it’s all going to be okay. Although I’m rejoicing in every little downy hair I see coming in and I am really looking forward to being able to leave my house without ‘painting on my face’, the thought of finishing treatment fills me with dread a little bit, because there’s part of me that takes much solace in the fact that every two weeks action was being taken, and that every day for the next five weeks or so, more action will be taken to make sure that this cancer is eradicated from my body. After that, …. I wait, and I guess I take a bit of a leap of faith and trust that all of this has been worth it. 

In the meantime, I’ve been trying to get back into my own skin again, feel like myself, reconnect with my physical self and walk off some of this stress. Last week I reactivated my GPS app on my phone and clocked the kilometres I walked, About 35km got logged into my phone last week, which makes me feel stronger and kind of like I’m putting distance between me and this disease. There is a certain beauty to leaving chemotherapy behind and walking toward the rest of my life. 

Next stop, radiation! 

 

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3 thoughts on “Walking it off

  1. Hi Tanya,

    I’m not sure if you remember me, It’s Jonathan David (Uy). I think the last time I saw you, I was just about to pass out on Julija’s couch during a New Year’s bash. I just wanted to say, hang in there. I lost my wife to breast cancer last year (she was diagnosed in June 2008 – cancer truly sucks). There aren’t any magic bullets on how to deal with this. I can only offer words that Sarah and I shared with each other on a daily basis: be strong, live each moment and love . . .

    JD

  2. -coming back from 3 days in the woods- no connection to computers and phones- one tends to find quite the lineup of statuses and sayings and photos and recipes and likes…….but really…..the only comment I find myself thinking of…..is- “Tanya,….it’s all going to be okay” !

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