Now What?

Can I get some kind of HALLELUJAH for chemo being over?!? It's a pretty great feeling to have survived 6 months of feeling like the walking dead.
But it's actually pretty confusing trying to figure out how to feel. Because even though I'm done with chemo, I don't know if it worked or if I'm cancer free, so that's still scary. It's one terrible, miserable chapter closed, but there might be more terrible, miserable chapters ahead. OR I could be done and move on. It's just this crazy fork in the road, and I won't know until I have my PET scan in a few weeks. *Cue emotional wreck for the next few weeks.* Add to that the fact that I'm trying to plan my school year without having any idea how I'm going to be feeling. It's a good time.

BUT we celebrate when we can, right?!
I told my mom that I didn't really want to do an end-of-chemo party or make a big deal out of it because ending chemo doesn't mean the cancer is gone, but, like any good mother, she didn't listen and planned a party anyway. I love that lady.

I got all dolled up for my last chemo! The nurses and doctors have gotten used to my crazy wigs and hats, so they were all excited to see what I'd bring for the big last day. I think I did a pretty good job... my rainbow mohawk rocked it, even if it was too tall to comfortably fit in the car. And my shirt was a hit - it said "My oncologist does my hair." My doc took a picture to keep because he liked it so much/because I'm his favorite patient, I'm pretty sure.

Mom and Michelle came to chemo with me, and mom brought flowers and purple cupcakes! It was legit!
Chemo took longer than usual because my port had to be flushed out due to blood clots - those nasty little things. But as soon as I finished my injections, in came all of my favorite people (minus David)! They walked in to the clinic wearing matching shirts that said "Lymphoma Lost" on the front and "So just dance, dance, dance" on the back, and they had balloons, and I might've cried just a little.

Dad, Joseph, Erin, Drew, Becky, Cassie, and Brenda had all taken time out of work and life to come and support me and celebrate and it was just the best moment! I'm 100%, for real, the luckiest lady to have these people as my support team, and I know I can't ever repay them for how much they've loved and supported me. When I first realized I might have cancer, I called Cassie from my car and I just cried and told her how scared I was. She was a red-headed angel and cried with me and told me it would all work out in God's plan. A different time, Drew knew I was at my parent's house and came all the way over just to give me a hug before I left for Salt Lake. And so many times, Becky calls me just to check up and talk about life, and makes sure I have everything I need when I pretend I'm a hobo and sleep on her couch. This is the kind of high quality friends I have, folks. I'll tell you all about my amazing family later, but they're gold-medal worthy, too.

It's a cancer tradition (apparently) that you get to ring this bell after your last chemo to symbolize finishing and all that jazz, so we gathered around the bell and I rang it like a champ! Only I didn't expect it to be as loud as it was, so that was a bit of a shock. Good times.
We then headed to the office supply store to stock up on their 1 cent items for my classroom, and then came home and had wonderful food and happiness. Then I took a nap, because even though it's my last chemo, it's still chemo - so it still sucks.

So...what happens now?
Well, tomorrow I'm taking a mental health day and spending the night at a fancy resort. I'm super excited because #1: hotels are my favorite thing, and #2: I need some time to process, so why not do that in a complimentary bathrobe or mineral water hot tub?
It's been the craziest 6 months, and a lot of what I thought made me who I am has been taken away. So many things that I thought were important to me, like my freaking sexy hair or my energy, were suddenly gone. I can't describe what that's like, but it's hard. I've had to really evaluate who I am and what I want, and I'm taking some time to get used to the changes. Plus it's an excuse to wear a fluffy bathrobe, so really, it's a win-win, right?
Then, just to take the relaxation to the next level, I'm spending some time in a cabin far away from blogs and hashtags and oncology appointments.
And thennnn it's back to real life, and I'll have my PET Scan. It will show if the cancer is gone or how effective the treatments have been. The next day I'll meet with a radiologist to review the scans and go over the options. Hopefully (let's all pray!) the cancer will be gone and I won't need radiation, but it's still an option because it lessens the chance that the lymphoma will come back. It's not a great option, though, because the tumor where I'd be most likely to need radiation is nestled right between my heart and my lungs. Little brat. So we will see. If I do radiation, it will be every. single. day. for 4 weeks. So that's exciting.

So that's the 4-1-1. The down low. The scoop. The headlines. All that jazz.
Cheers to making it through chemo! Fingers crossed that radiation doesn't have to be a thing!

Being bald has its perks, I mean, look how great I look as Darth Maul.