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January 16, 2010
Published on Jan 17, 2010
I’ve had such a hard time trying to write this final entry to the saga of my right breast.
It’s done. Treatment is over. The journey ends for you, dear reader. Thanks for coming on the ride of my life.
But for me it isn’t over. So it’s hard to find a way to say The End.
I will live strong. Lance got it right. Despite my irritation with him, especially after that whole Sheryl Crow thing. He got it right. We are strong.
The possibility of recurrance lives with me. Cancer and I will learn to co-exist. And we will deal with whatever comes.
So it’s not over. I am re-made anew with this sucky cancer thing in my world.
And in such a weird way, I am in love.
With the women I have met who travel the sucky cancer road. We know each other intimately and it is such a bittersweet understanding, often unspoken, more often spoken as if we’ve had no one to talk to for years.
And, all trite and cornball aside, I have moments of absolute, northern lights illuminating the skies, love for being. Being. What the hell else matters?
These are the doors that have opened.
And those tears that came while I lay under the radiation machine for the last time, come again. For loss, for the women, for the magic of the night skies, lighting the way.