Sarah's Last Chemo

Three little words.

Sarah's last chemo.

I sit here and pause. I wonder how on earth do I describe what those three little words mean. How do I describe what the anticipation was like...what the being there was like....what the leaving the chemo room was like...what the drive home was like..what the night at home has been like.

We stopped on the way home and picked up some of Sarah's favorite pizza. She was hungry. She hadn't eaten much all day. She wasn't really hungry. The traffic on the way home was terrible...bumper to bumper. Tom called me on my cell phone and said bad weather was approaching. We stopped and got pizza anyway. The storm bypassed us AND we got our pizza.

Dave and Davey came to Sarah's last chemo. Davey, who is almost 7, wanted to be there. Sarah had told him she would take pictures for him. He said, "But, mom, I want to feel the room." Davey was there. I brought Pop Rocks for him. Remember those? His package of Pop Rocks was watermelon flavor. I told him that qualified them as fruit. I said it out loud. The rest of the people in our chemo pod laughed out loud. It was funny! "Gramma rules." So, I got the other packages of Pop Rocks out and gave some to the other chemo patients. Everyone had fun. We all had fun.

It was Sarah's last chemo.

But, it doesn't mean Sarah is done. Not by a long shot. It only means Sarah is done with chemo.

Sarah will meet with Dr. Zander, her oncologist, in four weeks. He will then start her on Tamoxifen. She will take that daily for five years. The good news is that it will help keep her cancer from recurring. It will have side effects however. We will find out more about that as she starts taking it. With the chemotherapy and the Tamoxifen, her recurrence rate will go from 19% down to 10% or so.

Are we home free? It doesn't feel like it. Has Sarah had her last chemo. The answer to that is a definite yes.

We will meet with Dr. Zander every three months for two years and then every six months for another few years. He will keep a close eye on her. With every month and year that pass her chance of recurrence goes down.

Will I hold my breath for several years? I will get back to you on that.

Sarah's last chemo marked the end of something. It was strange leaving the chemo room. The other patients and staff clapped. That is what happens when someone is a chemo graduate. It has significance. I said good bye to the room. Perhaps I should have said thank you. Yes, I should have.

I wish I knew why, when I write certain things, I want to cry. It is in the stillness of the moment that the feelings come. The feelings don't always have names and that makes the tears nameless. They are real just the same.

This is going to take a while. What I want to write and what I have to write are different. Sarah is feeling the same way. We talk. We both know. What should be the obvious experience is not the reality.

A lot happened today. Much of it is still living in my body and I still have to find words for it.

Sarah had her last chemo today. For that I am grateful. I don't want her to have the side effects anymore. She won't. Not from the chemo anyway.

Our new road has yet to be mapped out for us. We have lots to look forward to. Good things. Her hair will be starting to grow back almost immediately. Although, she loves being bald. She will have maybe 80% of her strength back in about four months. She will be, maybe, back to her old self in about a year. Physically. The emotional journey will be a little harder to measure.

Sarah's last chemo marks the end of this part of our journey and launches us into the next part of our journey. The story doesn't end here.

We are just starting a new chapter.