Six Sleeps to Oz

This photo is from March 26th, when Patti shaved my head for me. Who knew that I'd be eager to have hair this long again? Mine is growing fast but, I'm not quite to this length yet. Hopefully by next week! I'm sick of wigs.

Less than a week to Australia! That means that I've only got three more radiation sessions and I am finished with my cancer treatment. I'm not sure when that lovely reality will sink in.

I'm thrilled to report that I feel much better than I did a few days ago. The evil cold/flu bug that drove me to my knees exited stage left yesterday. My underarm radiation burn is slowly healing: a few more days to go. Three days in bed. Whew.

Last night, we watched the Stand Up to Cancer telethon. It was quite moving and not a little bit disturbing for me. Seeing the statistics that 207,000 people will be diagnosed with breast cancer this year and realizing that I am now one of those statistics feels strange. Part of me must be in denial. I don't know how because every time I look in the mirror or look down, I am reminded. The scars last forever, even the ones that fade on the surface. How will I feel a year from now? five years from now?

So, I'm not sure what to call myself. Am I a cancer survivor? Or, is that name only applicable at 3pm on Wednesday, September 15th, when my last appointment ends? Do I say that I "had" breast cancer? that I "have" breast cancer?

I find it rather odd that they don't have a scan when your treatment ends to declare you cancer-free. I know that they want to do a mammogram in three months and possibly every three months for the next five years? They didn't find my initial cancer on my routine mammogram last September so, I don't have a lot of confidence or interest in having my boob smashed in the mammogram machine so frequently. I can only imagine if I hadn't found the lump myself in January and had waited until now to go in. How much would it have spread by then?

But, I feel lucky. A new friend of mine, that feels like an old friend, is in the hospital. She beat cancer several years ago and now she is ill and the doctors haven't diagnosed the problem yet. She is in her 30s. When I visited her today, my gut told me she'd make it through this new challenge. I know she'll beat whatever this is, even if it is cancer returning. She's too stubborn to let it take over her life. But, why does she even have to deal with it again? It seems so unfair.

So, I am lucky to have three more days. Maybe I will feel done when I leave Scripps parking lot and relinquish my Free-Parking-wristband. Or, maybe I will feel free when Todd and I are driving to LA to catch our plane. Perhaps it will register that I am finished while having High Tea in Sydney or petting a koala along the Great Ocean Road.

The sooner the better!