It's 10:45pm and whole house is asleep except for Abby and I. I think it might have been the double espresso that we split before dinner. What can I say the kid likes Starbucks:) Actually, I just gave her the "chocolate medicine" pill, #9 we're in the single digits now counting down to zero. I got the spoon out, put the M&M sized pill on the spoon and covered it with chocolate syrup. Crunch, crunch, sip, sip and back to bed she goes. I wash off the spoon, put it back in the sealed chemo container and back into the cabinet. Pretty much the same as the last 600+ nights of my life. I think I might have get that spoon bronzed... or maybe incinerated. I don't have much time... I guess I should decide here soon.
Now, with that being said, I should probably jump right into some point about how happy I am for Abby to almost be done and all that... But that's the problem, I don't really feel that way... it's hard to explain but let me try.
I guess I'm glad that Abby is almost done but in a way I'm still a bit numb. I don't if numb is the right term, maybe apathetic... but you know that doesn't really fit either because I do care, I care a lot actually. I care so much that I'm scared. That's right, scared. But I don't want to be scared and there is so much to be happy about, so much to celebrate and so I sit here in this hard to describe place. Somewhere between exuberant to be almost done and yet scared to be done... just kind of in the middle.
I think Dr. Smith maybe had the right words to describe it, "unprotected" he said. That's how people often feel when they come to the end of the treatment, unprotected. That word really resonates with me, rings me to the core. I mean even though chemo is ugly, makes peoples hair fall out, makes them feel like junk it still protects them. It still kills off the cancer. I mean lets be honest, if it wasn't for all of the nasty treatment that Abby was on she most likely wouldn't be here anymore. And now the day I've been waiting for, the day we've all been waiting for, Abby last treatment day is quickly approaching. The day where we stop suppressing her cell division and let everything grow like it is suppose to!? (exclamation and question mark intended). And with that fact, I'm left in the middle.
Now it's not like I won't be celebrating because I definitely will! But it may look a little different than i was thinking it would look like. Maybe more of a phased celebration. A little celebration to start here on April 19th with a bit of underlying anxiety. And then a few weeks later while we are on the beaches of California and at Disneyland a bit more of a celebration. The one month follow up... a celebration while holding my breath for the blood counts to come back. And then this fall when she gets her med-o-port removed a bit more of a party. October we will be going on her wish trip and I'll be looking forward to that trip as an even bigger way to celebrate all that Abby has walked through at such a young age. I'm excited to see her, actually see us all, be in our best child behavior!
So, does that make sense? I'm fine with it for now, but I don't want to stay in the middle for too much longer. I'm more of an extremes guy myself, give me the top or the bottom. Let me tell you, it's a much better way to experience life. I'd rather have highs and lows than just live in the middle with it's illusions of control and it's pseudo protection. All that happens by staying here is you get numb and apathetic... and once you're there you get stuck, and you don't really care about taking the risk and going back out into the non-safe looking world...
come to think of it, maybe I will bronze that spoon... it can be part of those series of celebrations that are speeding on towards us! Looking forward to all the potential highs and potential lows.
Off to dream of the days to come.
Couldn't have said it better myself.
I don't think I've admired you and loved you more for what you shared...raw, honest, forthright and TRUE. I think that many of us feel the same way but didn't know how to articulate it. I'm glad you said it...it is "out of the closet" now...we can deal with our fear and numbness without having to pretend or put on a false sense of hope. Just as before, all this...Abby is still in God's hands. What happens from this moment on is a gift! Loves,
Congratulations and love to you all. You've done it. Live and enjoy the future. My nephew went through all of this, we all prayed and learned, a bone marrow transplant from his sister was rejected, we prayed more. That was twenty years ago now and he is a wonderful young man. The only side effect being eyesight which was fixed by laser therapy and unfortunately he is sterile due to the levels of chemo, but happily looking forward to the day he adopts his first child. Love life, thank God for helping you through it. Lots of love to you all.
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