Chemotherapy Round 12: The Grande Finale

Well now, that's done with then. Six months of fortnightly injections of cytotoxic chemicals. Hair loss, a blood infection, a hospital stay, a less-than-expected amount of vom. 8 pounds of gained steroids weight. Every episode of Mad Men, Father Ted and Black Books. 100 levels of angry birds.

I actually feel a bit strange about the whole thing ending. On one hand, chemo was awful, but at least I knew that drugs were doing bad things to the cancer. Now, the situation is a bit like when America gets involved in some foreign war and then decides to leave and nobody is really sure what's going to happen. Chemo completed, and we're now handing over control of defences to my immune system. Except we all know how well that turned out last time. I'm expecting it will take a few weeks for the full implications of all of this to sink in.

The final infusion was actually a bit anticlimatic. I got the drugs, said goodbyes and thank-you's to all of the nurses. Shook my doctor's hand and made plans to see him in three months. Walked home, had some ice cream and watched Masterchef before getting an early night. All a bit ho-hum really. I mean, this surely is a momentous occasion is someone's life isn't it? The end of 6 months of feeling like crap all the time? I think anyone who finishes a full round of chemo deserves a medal or a certificate or something to hang on our walls. 

Back in school in Canada, every student in gym class used to get awards as part of the government sponsored fitness ParticipACTION program. Bronze, silver, gold or excellence depending on your scores on various athletics tests. I always got bronze because I sucked at climbing ropes and kicking balls and running fast, but at least you got a little badge you could take home and put on your fridge. It added to the sense of achievement of it all. Anyways, I'm awarding myself the medal of excellence for chemo survivorship. It's not really in the spirit of the ParticipACTION program, since I let my gym membership lapse during chemo and spent a lot of time sleeping on the couch, but I'm sure Canadian fitness greats Joanne Mcleod and Hal Johnson would be okay with it.