Let the Healing Begin

Sunday:  I’m writing this the Sunday before Christmas, the day before the final week starts.  I don’t have any mixed feelings — all of my feelings are centered on being done.  I am, however, wondering what’s life going to be like after treatment.  And after recovery.  It’s hard for me to imagine.  Will I always be impacted by being a cancer survivor?

Monday:  This week seems like there are only 2 days. Tuesday — the last chemo.  And Thursday — the last radiation.  Every other day is just part of Tuesday or Thursday.

Tuesday:  Around 4:30 Tuesday morning, I got up to go the bathroom.  When I turned around, I just fell down hitting the cabinet and bathroom door very hard.  The crash woke up Suzy, who came to help me.  Luckily, I didn’t hit my head or hurt anything, and I didn’t lose consciousness.  My blood pressure was really low, 80/50.  When I went to Mayo for my regular appointment that morning, no one seemed surprised or concerned.  It was terrifying to us, but run of the mill to them.  Some combination of my medications, plus maybe some dehydration, caused my blood pressure to drop.  Just another thing to pay attention to.  Hey Suzy, I am going to pee, listen just in case I pass out!

Wednesday:  There are a few countdowns left.  Of course, this week.  Then the first four weeks of recovery.  Three months until the PET scan and the first gate on the way to being cancer-free.

Then there’s the countdown to the Covid vaccine.  When can I get it?  And the countdown to being “normal” again.  I’m trying figure out what conditions have to exist before playing golf or at least hitting range balls.  After my blood work comes back normal?  Blood work plus a month or so of recovery?  After a successful PET scan?  After all that, plus the vaccine?  Countdowns are hard with so many unknowns. Right now, I can’t even wear a regular shirt without pain, so it’ll be a while.

The last day of treatment starts tomorrow with radiation and a consult with Dr. P, my Radiation Oncologist.  Then I am free!  I’ll still have consults, some poking and prodding, some scans, but no treatments.  When the doctor was talking about a taper-down schedule for my gabapentin, Suzy said we need a taper-down schedule for our Mayo appointments, that we’ll be in Mayo withdrawal.  I hope it will be liberating.  It feels that way already, like Suzy and I are being released from the nest. 

Thursday:  Christmas Eve and my last day!  As I got up from my final radiation treatment, I felt this great release. Because of the covid no-visitor policy, I chose not to ring the big bell inside.  Lee, Heidy, and Suzy were waiting for me outside with Team Fleury signs by the Mayo statues.  Joe, Rich, and John, the radiation therapists, walked out with me and I rang a small bell to celebrate the end of radiation. You couldn’t see, but there were smiles under all our masks. The tears, you could see.

I feel kind of numb.  I’m not really sure what I feel.  The only thing that changed is that I don’t have treatments.  I still can’t eat solid food, and my neck is still burnt.  Radiation keeps working for a week or two after treatment ends, so I’ll get worse before I get better. But at least I know I’ll soon be on the mend. 

Like Dr. P said today, now the healing can begin.