Mary, went to her 8th and final chemo treatment. I got to go along (after getting the car stuck in the driveway and triumphantly digging it out all by myself) and meet the sweet nurses who've cared for her and David during this dark and difficult journey. I'm so humbled by the work of oncology nurses, and so hopeful that Mary (and all of us) will never have to see that floor of the clinic again. There is much rejoicing. And napping. Because frankly, that's a good idea for everyone after chemo.
The first appointment with the radiation doctor is in 2 weeks, and from there Mare'll have perhaps a month of radiation? Or more? It's hard to know. Firm answers are not easy to come by around here. Radiation five days a week for four weeks. Over 2 hours of driving round trip. Everyday. This fighting cancer business really eats into one's social life, apparently.
But by Easter, hopefully, she'll be all done, and cancer-free, and we can be joyful and gleeful and giddy and grateful, and breathe a collective family sigh, and eat some chocolate bunnies. Nothing counters chemo and radiation like chocolate bunny eatin', I hear. I can hardly wait.