Time To Put Away The Germ-X

For the past five months, these bottles of 99.99% germ killing power have fashioned their way throughout our home. They have replaced Pottery Barns vases and flea market knickknacks on side tables, been camouflaged behind picture frames, been placed on night stands and sink counters. Pretty much anywhere in the house where an unexpected sneeze or cough could leave little hands (or big ones) stranded with a hot mess of germs...you could find a bottle for it within a 3 step radius. I even considered performing some minor surgeries on the kids favorite stuffed animals to stash a trial-sized bottle for those midnight cough attacks....a bit extreme, I know and in case you are wondering whether or not I actually did it - let's just say that no stuffed critters were harmed during the 'degermification' process.

At long last, it's time to reclaim my decorating accessories and put away the Germ-X bottles. The fear of landing a night in the ER from catching a common cold or stomach bug no longer remains...16 rounds of chemical cocktails downed and this girl is done with chemotherapy.

June 21, 2012

It's a date that has been etched into my brain since the very first chemical cocktail - my last day of chemotherapy (yet I didn't dare write it down on the calendar). In the words of Michael Scott from The Office, "I'm not superstitious, but I am a little stitious." I wasn't willing to jinx the date by marking up my calendars with that monumental event. There were too many opportunities for things to go wrong, a feisty liver acting up or those germ-fighting cells not bouncing back to a treatable level. Oh no, regardless of how silly my superstitions may have been, I was not going to take the risk of scribbling those 4 little words "Last Day of Chemo" on my calendar. Any delay to that highlighted occasion would be too crushing.

It wasn't until three weeks before my last chemical cocktail that the calendars were not only marked but doodled, highlighted and starred. At that point, I invested too much time and suffered through too many cocktails for any delays. I determined that, short of not having a pulse, nothing was going to keep me from this chair:

Let me tell you, on that faithful morning it felt like my superstitions were being validated...we were running 25 minutes late by the time that we finally got on the road to Hopkins, my husband missed the exit to the hospital and I had an infection developing under my fingernail....appropriately located on my middle finger.

But, despite cancer's lame attempts, my date with that chair was kept. And thankfully just like the previous 15 rounds...it went down uneventfully.

Good to the last drop

Last bag in and that's a wrap, folks. This part of my treatment is done...over...complete...finito! I think it goes without saying how relieved I am to be getting off this emotionally straining and physically exhausting roller coaster ride. 

So, what will I miss most about chemo?
 Hmmm...uhhhh...let me think...give me a second...oh right -
ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!

 Well, that's not entirely true.

 Admittedly, 

there is something...

 that I might miss

 just a little

bit...

...the blanket oven.

Hands down one of the best inventions EVER! Totally was trying to figure out a way to get that bad boy out of the hospital without being noticed.

But, in all seriousness, I do have to give a shout out to these amazing ladies. Can't imagine a more caring and compassionate group of women that I would rather be "stuck" by...they made this difficult part of the journey a heck of a lot easier:

A big, heart-felt thanks to Debbie, Fran, Linda, Colleen & Kelly (not in pic) for all that you do for your patients!

Of course, I can't even imagine getting into the ring without the love and support of my husband and these 3 monkeys cheering me on along the way: 

Alex expressing his thoughts on cancer

 And it's because of them that there's no way I'm coming out of the ring without a KO under my belt. Some day, years from now, when they're all grown, I hope they realize how much they were in large part the reason behind my fight.

And so, this chapter in "The Battle With The Big C" has come to an end...hopefully, never to be revisited. Next up, surgery. But, before that happens, I'm going to need some time to allow the white cells to bounce back. In the meantime, I will continue to replace those Germ-X bottles with vases of freshly picked flowers and enjoy this time with family and friends.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Lisa has left the building. Thank you and goodnight."

Cancer, you don't stand a chance...