I love to feel busy. It’s the way I feel some purpose and how I also battle creeping depression. I have fervor for creating new hobbies and goals – novel writing, soap making, my YouTube channel – I’ll be making organic lip balm tonight.
I’m constantly looking at my calendar for the next deadline: Shiloh’s appointment is tomorrow at 10:30 AM, drop Luna off tomorrow at 1:00 PM at Healthy Hounds, Thanksgiving dinner at the Lucas house on Thursday at 2:00 PM, Abalos Thanksgiving dinner at 4:00 PM the same day in a different town, and get my blood drawn before noon on Saturday at the hospital to check my levels, especially CA-125. Sometimes, I make things up for myself to get things done or be productive – to create something that matters.
During high school, I looked forward to college. During college, I looked forward to a full time job. After I landed a job, I looked forward to marriage. After marriage, I looked forward to being a mother. When I became a mother, I had cancer.
We all looked forward to my last chemotherapy date, March 14th 2017 and a clean CT scan.
In the last year, I lived my life in a revolving door toward doctor appointments: GYN Oncologist, Intervention Radiologist, Hematologist, blood draws, hydration days, and chemotherapy. Now, my next appointment for a check-up isn’t until the end of January with my oncologist. I don’t need to see any other doctor again for a year. I only get blood draws when I want to check my numbers with my standing order. No one is calling my name in sterile hospital waiting rooms.
Other than our daily goals and holiday gatherings, there are no big milestones on the horizon – just us – and that’s okay.
Our family of three and the pets (Sherlock, Watson, and Luna) are all happy and healthy. This Thanksgiving, I will be able to participate fully and not watch my family finish their meals from a mattress holding my weight in my mother’s look room.
Moving on after cancer is not an event or goal, it’s the day to day process – enjoying each breath and smile from family and friends. My loved ones will be calling me into warm rooms.
I’m still learning to enjoy it.