I have repeatedly refused to celebrate “lasts” throughout this illness – last chemo, last day in the hospital, last GVH flare. For some people, it helps to ring the end of treatment bell or make a poster celebrating their “last chemo!!” And I totally respect that. For me, celebrating a last feels fake because I never really know it will be the last. For all I know, I could be back to chemo tomorrow.
I keep letting myself get excited about the prospect of being free from central lines and steroids and being immunocompromised. And I just keep getting crushed over and over. So this leads me to consider – is it naive of me to keep getting excited? or is it more of a testiment to my optimism that I can manage to repeatedly be so hopeful? Probably both, right?
I have been struggling immensely these past few weeks between GVH and increased steroids and some weird new symptoms like fatigue and headaches. I am 11 months out from transplant and not a day goes by that I don’t think about cancer or GVH or pain management. I look forward to a day (far in the future) when I don’t even have to be optimistic anymore. Instead, I hope that I will simply exist – for a second, a minute, an hour – without remembering that I had cancer.