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This video about covers it - J~ and I debriefing after our first appointment with the local Radiation Oncologist.
Four more weeks of chemo (three more treatments - I had my most recent yesterday) and then a three-week break to get me set up to begin radiation. Five and a half weeks of that (twenty-eight treatments in all). If all goes according to plan, I'll be done by August.
Yesterday J~ and I ran into a friend while walking Millie in the park. Something in our conversation sparked the realization that I never think about five years out, how I might feel if I get to that point and I'm still cancer free. It's an important milestone in cancer survivorship, generally regarded as the threshold after which the chance of recurrence drops - doesn't go away, but drops.
In the midst of all that's going on now, it's hard to imagine that I will ever hit that milestone. It feels safer to keep breathing my way through each challenge as it arises, living in the moment, savoring all that is good and present in my life right now rather than pinning my heart on a future uncertainty.
Besides, what if I get there and then have a recurrence three months later?
Ideally, I won't notice the five year mark passing, I'll be too busy and healthy and happy and engaged in life.
I asked J~ if he thinks about the five year mark. "Oh yes," he nodded, "I told you before." And then he said something in a quiet singsong, his little dream for me. "Hartford Marathon, 2020."
Last time he mentioned this I laughed it off without making the connection that this date had any particular significance. This time I laughed it off again, assuring him in no uncertain terms that I will never run a marathon.The idea of running an entire 26.2 miles, not to mention all the miles of training leading up to it, seems to me grueling, boring, not at all who I am.
Then again, I never thought I'd run a half-marathon, let alone enjoy it. I never thought I'd ride a bicycle 100 miles in one day, let alone six times over in a single season. I never thought my life would take all the various unexpected twists and turns it has taken in the years since I began this blog. Who knows. Perhaps I'll be running that marathon after all, feeling strong and vibrant and joyously grateful to be alive, and sharing the journey right here on this blog.
Time will tell.
2 comments:
(((Hugs)))
Sending you lots of love.
I'm so glad you have Jim to lean on. He seems like an amazing spouse.
Sending you lots of love too, from miles away.
It IS hard, but you'll get through. That I have no doubt about.
S
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