People mark cancer-related anniversaries in different ways—diagnosis date, end of treatment date, “cure” date, etc.
Today marks 11 years since I completed chemotherapy.
I have written quite a bit about my cancer experience in my book fetus; I’ll share some of it here as we go.
While I was going through treatment, I kept a blog. I wish I was as verbose then as I am now—I would know so much more now about what happened then.
The screenshot above is all I wrote about that treatment.
I remember being in the infusion room, excited to be on my last treatment, and expressing that to someone in another chair nearby.
She condescended to me slightly, calling me a baby after learning I had been in treatment for six months.
She was in her 10th year.
Maybe I wrote about that somewhere else. (I didn’t reread the whole blog—just looked up the post for today.)
On my way out, I got to ring the bell—a small replica of the Liberty Bell. The nurses (who were some of the most amazing people on the planet) had all signed a “congratulations!” certificate.
These are things I remember but aren’t things I wrote down. I wonder why?
I go back and look at some of those posts and they’re not amazing. I’m a much better writer now than I was then.
I’m sure that some time in the future, I’ll come back and look at some of these posts and cringe. Maybe the writing isn’t as good as it will be. Maybe I’ve written about an opinion I will change.
That is one of the risks with writing things down where other people can read them. But I’m happy to share my experience.
And I’m happy to have had another 11 years to do it. Here’s to another cancer-free lap around the sun *clink*
May my writing now be more detailed!
