One day more! Another day, another destiny….

One more to go.

One more to go.

One more to go.

One more mountain, then a smooth path and no more climbing – for a while at least.

I can’t really believe it. Such a long time coming but not really anytime at all. One third of a year. If I was still at school, I’d have an interesting “what I did this summer” essay. I watched the weather change through windows, from my bed. Now, just as the season begins to change it will be over.

It feels unreal, it has always felt unreal. Half a year that will change you fundamentally. Actually, the change happens as soon as you find the lump, the next six months are treading water.

We’re not done yet. I get sometime off then there’s Radiotherapy and Hormone Therapy and possibly Genetic testing and more operations and, and, and. I’m beginning to realise I’ll never be able to put this in a box, that’s the thing about Cancer it will always be there, hovering.

That’s another post for another time. No more Chemo is worth celebrating. No more PICC line is worth celebrating too.

Is it an accomplishment? I don’t know. There has been a moment, *cough* several moments, after each blasting when I’ve sworn I’d not do it again. I was done. I was going to quit. I made my peace with being a quitter, I composed posts called ‘I’m a quitter and I don’t care’. Getting to the end? I guess it makes me feel unstoppable. I’m lucky, I know just how weak and how strong I am. That’s powerful information to hold. I’m one tough cookie.

But it’s not just me, Dad and A. have one last Chemo too. It has taken this triangle of love to get me through, sometimes kicking and screaming. These two wonderful humans have, will always have, my highest admiration and humble thanks. I do not think I have the words to do my heroes justice; I’ve never had to be strong when I’ve not wanted to be, my good days have been celebrated, I’ve been protected on my not so good days, tears have been wiped, hugs and kisses free flowing and all my food whims answered. They are the toughest of cookies. If I wasn’t so selfish, I’d suggest they should be cloned and given out on the NHS but they are MINE and I LOVE them deeply. How lucky am I?

There’s one last thing I’d like to say. A HUGE THANK YOU to my family and friends, near and far. I will never again mock the expression “it takes a village” – it really, really does. Every blog post you’ve read, every Facebook “like” or comment, every phone call, text, email, card, letter, gift and visit; has made me feel less isolated (and Cancer can feel very isolating), less of a sick freak. I may not of managed to see everyone, taken you up on your kind offers of help or company but just the fact you offered, touched my heart and made me feel less alone. I’ll pay it forward I promise you.

Next year, lets all meet up and have a massive party.