Chemo #6 Re-cap

**Warning- this post is all over the place**

Chemo #6- over and DONE!!!!! Unfortunately, I was able to be lucky enough to develop a horrible case of bronchitis during it all.  So, two weeks later, I am NOW finally feeling better. Thank goodness!!!  I swear bronchitis has been worse than the chemo itself.  Furthermore, the lingering cough can leave at any time.  Really, leave.  I am so tired of coughing (and feeling like I need to wear Depends while I cough).  I'm over it all.

My mind feels clearer and my taste buds are coming back!!! But for now, let's recap number 6.

The morning before #6, I pulled out my trusty chemo notebook and wrote the following:

 

 
Like my lovely art? Yea, I know, I'm awesome.  But, these 4 things are how I wish to celebrate.  I closed my notebook, placed it in my chemo bag, and Jeff and I drove off to chemo #6.  On the way, I received some lovely emails and messages wishing me well.  Thanks to all who sent great vibes.

I was lucky to have a lot of visitors on chemo #6, as well as my chemo posse who keep chairs 19 to 23 fun.  There is a group of us who have the same seats every chemo.  We are our own little group.  On chemo #6, we had a new member.  As much as I love people, and new friends, I hate that she was seated in chair 21 next to me.  Her stupid cancer decided to come back.  She was now doing chemo for the second time.

It was at that moment, my world halted.

Relapse.

That word never ever dawned on me.  Until I met chair 21.

She was so upset to be back in the chair -- I mean who wouldn't be.  She is younger than me, her breast cancer a little different than mine, but also HER2 positive-- like me.  Crap.  We all offered our support and kind words.

Here I am celebrating last crappy "hard" chemo, and she's starting it all over again.  This was a reality that I did not want to see.  Chemo is supposed to kill this all.  The double mastectomy is supposed to make it all go away.  It's not supposed to spread to lymph nodes or any where else.  All the stuff I've been doing (and that she did), was supposed to make the cancer journey end.  Period,

I did my best to focus on my last chemo celebration and my friends.  Here are some pictures.

Once I got home, Jeff and I celebrated with our traditional chemo countdown beer.  I am happy to report, that 6 pack is EMPTY.

Cheers to chemo being done.

But, I could not shake this dread.

Relapse.

The chemo posse met up again on Friday (after chemo) for fluids.  We all talked some more.  We met again on Monday (fluids) and on the next Thursday (fluids for me, chemo for a few).  Wouldn't you know on Thursday, there was another new face.  Another lady with long beautiful hair. She also, had a relapse.  Shit.

To say I was a trying to not spiral into the hole of "what ifs"  is mild.  I look for signs from God, from the Universe, from everywhere around me.  Why at chemo #6, do I meet two ladies that relapsed?  Did I need a reality check that not everyone is lucky to be placed in remission after all this?  Did I need a reminder to keep checking nodes and surface skin for changes?

I do not know why.  But, this was a reality check I would have liked to avoid.  I will go in tomorrow, for my herceptin, and see my chemo posse.  I will offer support and listen.  It's not much, but I can do that.

I do not want a relapse.  Until I met chair 21, relapse was not even on my radar.  Between the double mastectomy, chemo and herceptin, I have a great prognosis.  But, now, knowing there is another side of this "great prognosis" I am going to be paranoid.  They tell me, I will have blood work done every few months to check my tumor markers.  Chair 21 had this to,  Her tumor marker was 1 number over "normal."  One number, and she left a lump in her node.  One fricking number means the cancer is back.  I have a feeling, I am going to be paranoid every three months with this test.

Basically, for chemo number 6, the reality of cancer hit me.  Two acquaintances passed away due to their cancer/complications of cancer, and now two ladies relapsed.  Death and relapse.  While trying to treat all this, I forget some people do not get to experience the all clear.  I am still fighting my fight, but these four people will always be in my prayers and thoughts as reminders of every day being cancer free is a gift.  Life goes on, and my choice is to keep moving with it.