Then the surgeon's office called a little while ago and said they needed to reschedule this afternoon's appointment. I will have to keep this port in my chest for twelve more days!!! What? Why?
Oh well. This is my story. This is my life. This is my chest. This is my port.
Twelve more days to remember these twelve months.
Here are some photos of what happened on Monday afternoon, the day of my final treatment.
One of the many awesome nurses there, Brenda, checking me in
and asking me all the pertinent pre-treatment questions.
The final time, the final accessing.
Yes, they do draw blood out of it before they put the medicine into it.
My kind, patient, serious, and cute oncologist.
He tried to shake my hand at the end of our appointment,
but I told him that I had to hug him because he had saved my life.
He laughed - and then accepted my hug.
I took a bunch of helium balloons and this certificate to the nurses at the office.
They were truly outstanding women, each of them and all of them.
The final pouch of poison - here's to the death of all kanswer cells -
not only in my body, but in all bodies everywhere.
I will say it again: KANSWER SUCKS!!!
I asked one of the people in the office to take a photo of me at the end of the treatment.
She said, "I've never had anyone ask me to do this before
or seem so happy to be in the treatment chair."
I told her it was my last time and that's why I was so happy.
But the truth is that my happiness extends beyond my relationship to kanswer and its final treatment. My happiness extends beyond and beneath the love of family and friends. My happiness goes to the core of who I am, the woman I am, the wife, mother, daughter, sister, cousin I am.
My happiness, my joy, my peace bubble up and out of the love I have in, from, and for God.
My Sweet Momma Jesus has walked with me through the darkest valleys of my life and atop the highest mounts of transfiguration and transformation.
The Gentle and Holiest Spirit guides me and strengthens me, teaches and encourages me to stand strong in the trials and dance strong in the victories.
I can smile and celebrate even with a chemo port in my chest because who I am and how deeply I am loved are not dependent on the health of my body, the length of my hair, the money in my bank account, or the stability of my relationships.
My joy, my peace, my hope is Christ, is in Christ, and is because of Christ.
To God be the glory??? Yes, indeed. To God be the glory, praise, and thanksgiving.
I guess the end of this mini-series of posts will be postponed until the afternoon of Monday, December 2nd.
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