Last chemo

Thank you, Lord!!!

I am done with chemo.

DONE. WITH. CHEMO!!!!!!!!!

I can't wrap my head around that there are no more weekly blood tests or long hauls to Anchorage or sitting in that blessed recliner in the infusion room for hours while I am pumped full of cancer-killing poison. The feeling of freedom is extraordinary - it doesn't feel real yet, even nearly a week later.

At right is Kate holding the cake that we picked up on the way to the last treatment. I just couldn't resist getting something for the oncologist's staff. In turn, the nurses in the infusion room quietly gave me a card that they had all signed along with some quick hugs. Then they returned to their other patients - some who were just starting their own treatment for the first time and other regulars that I had seen before. I will return to my oncologist for a checkup in about three months.

We were also finally able to slap the last sticker on the chemo sticker chart a terrific friend made up for us at the beginning of all this, too. It is so marvelous, I just have to share it, too:

Done, done, done!

[Do you parents out there appreciate how each box is labeled to make sure each girl gets their turn?]

I am still feeling droopy, but I am eager to get active again. I want to get physically prepared for the upcoming bilateral mastectomy. It is scheduled for Sept. 7. It is also the seven-year anniversary of my dad's unexpected death at 61. I am curious what I will think of this date each year - a time of new beginnings, perhaps.

The girls both recently had their birthdays. One of them received a set of Legos that came with a figure that needed to be assembled. Kate did that, and then removed the hair:

A Lego survivor?

"Look, momma!" she exclaimed. "She's bald like you. She had breast cancer, too."

Rock on, little Lego. And welcome to the sisterhood!

Lots of people have been asking me what I will be doing this Friday instead of that drive and chemo treatment. This Friday morning I have been invited to visit someone's garden. That afternoon, John will be hiking with a new friend. The girls and I will surely doing something fun, too - maybe the SeaLife Center. But I tell you what we will NOT be doing:

Chemo!!!!

WOO HOO (times a kajillion). Thank you, Lord Jesus, for giving us the strength and surrounding us with the love of so many to get us through that part of the process.

"But He said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore, most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in needs, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ's sake. For when I am weak, then I am strong." 2 Cor 12: 9-10

Trust

It is the eve before my last chemo treatment. No. 16 is finally here!

(Can you see my happy dance?)

Yesterday we participated in the usual Fourth of July revelry. The girls ran in a special kiddie race - a much smaller version of the annual marathon here - and we got to watch hundreds of men and women racers in action. I just kept thinking to myself: "How beautiful that the week I celebrate my freedom from chemo is the week America celebrates her independence?!"

(I just added some high kicks to that dance of joy.)

I have been feeling unusually tired this last week, but my oncologist told me to expect waves like this toward the end of treatment. Someone recently asked me how I have been able to physically get through the last several months and without thinking, I responded: "Denial!" Being the stay-at-home momma to these two little ladies has allowed me to push myself so much harder than I would have otherwise.

But the other day, I was at the end of my rope. It's been a very busy last few weeks, and I found myself unable to get out of bed. This is not a good thing when you have a husband at work and two little girls who need their mommy. I conned them into snuggling, and then rested on the couch while they ate breakfast. Then I put on a cartoon and rested some more. It made me so angry with myself.

Later in the day, some packages arrived - a gift for Bella because she has turned 4 and something from a friend on Prince of Wales. My fingernails have continued their withdrawal and I was in no mood to mess with the cardboard so I left them. Then I got to the business of preparing a meal for a new mom who just had her sixth child. I was still feeling pooped, but whew. Six kids? That makes chemo sound easy!

After it was delivered and we were back at home, I opened the box from the friend (Belle gets her party on Saturday, so she'll open hers then). Inside was a beautiful tote bag that read: "Just Trust God." It brought tears to my eyes! When I think about how He has loved and provided for us these last many months - wow. What a process this has been, and continues to be of leaning, healing and regaining our footing. I feel so unspeakably thankful; so many times things have worked out so perfectly that there is no other way to explain it BUT God.

I took a photo of my fingernails and planned to post it here (because, shoot, I know I would have been curious to know how they turned out if I were one of the readers here). But I think I'll spare you. I trust God will return them to their full length in time! And if He doesn't, I trust that there must a reason for that, too.

(Although, God? Seriously: Let there be no confusion from me. I thank you for creating fingernails in us people and pray that you would allow me to use them to their full potential soon!)