I had a facial the other day with the lovely A, and at the end of it, we got our phones out to make the next appointment. She mentioned a date four Wednesdays away, and I immediately said that I couldn't make it as it was a Wednesday and I would have a chemo session then. But then I suddenly realised that I would not have chemotheraphy on that day as I would have finished my Taxol the week before. Needless to say, I was absolutely ecstatic. I would've jumped up and down for joy right then and there; but I have a suspicion that A already thinks that I'm slightly odd so I controlled myself.
Although I still have roughly two and half months to go (with a two-week break in the Philippines in between) I am getting quite excited that I'm nearly at the end of this journey (let's not count that horrible menopause inducing, weight-gaining drug that I have to take for the next three years or so). However, I seem to have developed a new fear overnight: that of the cancer coming back. Although I have remained fairly upbeat throughout this entire ordeal, I know that a recurrence would upset me tremendously and would make me go into a very dark place.
I have experienced an entire myriad of emotions throughout my cancer journey: the initial fear at diagnosis, the positivity once chemo started, the joy at shrinking tumours and the mood dips every now and then. But one thing I never thought I would feel on nearing the end of my journey is fear. But I am scared. I don't want to have to go through this again. So once again I have gone back to my books and healthy living magazines, looking for answers. Although I know there is still no ultimate cure for cancer, I am pinning my hopes that an even healthier outlook will keep the evil crab away forever.