Ring My Be-e-ell, Ring My Bell (Now everyone can have that song in their head)

Whoohooo! What a fabulous day!! My last chemo treatment! The end of Phase I is complete! It was an unbelievable experience. I knew of course, Kevin and my sister were going to be there to share in this great milestone, but as I awoke from a Benadryl stupor I saw a cowboy hat out of the corner of my eye. Dad? Is that my Dad? Holy crap, it is! And that cute little woman? My mom! And that giant purse? That’s Martha’s giant purse! My aunt Martha! (HaHa, sorry Martha, couldn’t resist, I wanted in on the teasing.) I can’t even explain the shock and complete happiness I felt when I saw them! (And the shock when I learned my sister had known for over a week and hadn’t told me.) That just made this day so much better! Watching the drip of my final Taxol was like watching a pot waiting for it to boil. D….R….I…P. Slow! We were all so anxious for it to be over and we just kept looking up at the bag of necessary evil. Finally the last drop dripped into the IV and I was done. I didn’t know if I should laugh or cry. So I just laughed no need in making everyone else cry which I know would have happened!!! I was unhooked, everyone grabbed a handful of confetti to throw at me and my mom was handed my diploma. (I will say, I have a Master’s Degree and this was by far harder to earn!) Confetti was thrown and the nurse said “Don’t forget to ring that bell.” Everyone laughed as if to say “Oh, don’t you worry your pretty little head nursey nurse, that’s not going to happen.” We gathered up our stuff and my group of paparazzi cheerleaders followed me to the bell, cameras in hand ready to catch the moment. Kevin had the video camera and said, “go”. I reached up to ring that bell I had spoken so much about, ready to hear that well deserved ding, ding, ding and the eruption of applause in the infusion room…and guess what happened? Somehow, some way, I managed to miss the gosh darn bell. Had the ringer in hand but missed the bell. Yep. But it wouldn’t be me if that didn’t happen. I got it the second time though! And that felt great!

We took our party to the parking garage where we continued to laugh and hug and take pictures. I decided it would be a great idea to do a cartwheel! Keep in mind, I have never been able to do a cartwheel even as a kid. And, as everyone learned today, I still can’t. But it was fun anyway. After I embarrassed everyone with my failed attempt at a cartwheel, we journeyed on to lunch at one of my favorite places, Jorge’s. My bro-in-law Jim and nephew Nolan met us there. When Nolan got out of the truck he had a big smile on his face and was holding his hands behind his back. As he walked up to me, he took his hands out behind his back and handed me a dozen pink roses and said, “Happy last chemo, Aunt Turtle!” Oh, melt my heart why don’t you. How I made it through that without crying the world may never know. That owl guy can add that to his how many licks and tootsie roll pop file. We made our way inside and sat down to a great joyous lunch. Back out in the parking lot, I was also given a box of brownie bites (which I have eaten already thank you very much mean steroids) that Jim and Nolan had gotten me to go with the roses. Hugs, kisses, and “thank yous” just didn’t seem enough to tell everyone how much I appreciate all of their support today and always. But, I did do a cartwheel for them earlier. Everyone piled into their vehicles and headed home in different directions and while I was very sad to see everyone go, my heart was filled with love and joy of the knowledge that I have some incredibly loving, wonderful people in my life and because of their support and love, I will make it through this with flying colors. Add the morphine from surgery, maybe even flying colors and unicorns if I’m lucky!) I am one special gal…special in the love I am surrounded by.

 

So Phase I has ended and I am ready to move on to Phase II, The Demolition. Which by the way, I did schedule today from my infusion chair as soon as my oncologist gave me the go ahead. The surgery will me August 26 at 11am. That gives me two weeks to rest my body and prepare for the big day.
Once again I want to thank everyone for their love, support and prayers. I can’t express it enough. Love to all.
By the way, this is what is written on the plaque below the bell and on the diploma I received:

YOUR TODAYS AND TOMORROWS

For all the time that has passed since you first came to us,
For all the fears and doubts you have experience along the way,
For all the days you felt so badly and had to sacrifice things you wanted or needed to do.
Looking back and looking ahead,
TODAY is the day that you have been working toward.
From all of us to you,
May all your TOMORROWS be what is in your heart and dreams.
We celebrate today with you.

CONGRATULATIONS!
The staff at Texas Oncology Cancer Center