I had my 3 month check-up with my Oncologist on Tuesday. For the first time in months, I wasn’t paralyzed with fear as I walked into the hospital. (I could talk here about my panic attacks I experienced post treatment but we’ll save that topic for another day)
I actually forgot about my blood work they had run [which would NEVER have been the case a few short months ago] and I figured since I hadn’t heard anything as of yesterday morning, I might as well touch base and be sure all of the results looked good.
Let me also interject here and say that the Nurse Clinician @ UNC is beyond the greatest woman alive. She’s kind, patient, and even keeled which is a welcome change of pace to my energetically charged sort of personality. I rather like to think that we might be friends if it weren’t for the whole nurse / patient relationship we have going on.
[but back to the story]
Nurse J filled me in on all my stats- all my blood work looked great, chemo should mostly be out of my system, a slightly elevated sodium count (wait? what? I blame the Easter ham).
And before we hung up, Nurse J spoke the words I’ve been longing to hear since August when this mess all began
Well, lady, it looks like you’re in the clear.
I quickly hung up the phone knowing that I couldn’t keep my voice from cracking with emotion. That the fight I waged, the worry I’ve felt, the panic I’ve tried to keep at bay, and the emotions I’ve been flooded with
are all over.
Almost 8 months in the making. And I’m finally free at last.
Thank you- from the bottom of my ever so thankful heart- for being the best cheering squad this girl could have ever imagined. I hope that sharing (even over-sharing at points) my story has helped at least one person through a dark period. Because as I’ve said all along to my close friends and family, I’m tough and if it’s meant for me to go through this to helps someone else, I’ll gladly bear that burdeon.
& now (thankfully) the worst is over and the rest of my (our) lives is dangling in the distance.
I can’t wait to see what it has in store for me. for us.
Breathe in, breathe out, move on.
*this Jimmy Buffett song was used by a family friend of ours who’s son was battling Leukemia last year. each blog post Newell made, he closed with breathe in, breathe out, move on