It’s been a year. One year: 18 chemotherapy sessions, 36 bags of poison injected into my port, and 48 hours of sitting in those Lazy Boy recliners and staring out the same window.
But i made it.
On my last day, i deliberately sat in the same recliner that i sat in at my very first session. It felt fitting, to close this chapter of my life the same way i opened it. Of course, my head space was way different today. Today, i bounced into that office, greeting everyone who looked at me for even a second with cheese smiles. I cracked jokes. I let the staff sing to me, and i beamed when Jen announced to the whole room that this was my last treatment. I glided out of that office, feeling – for the very first time – excited that i am closer to getting my life back.