It occurred to me when I parked this afternoon that I’ve been coming to this office just shy of 7 years.
Seven. Years. My first time was the day before Thanksgiving, 2019, when I found out I’d have to have chemo.
Today I’m in for labs (oncology vampires are the BEST vampires!! They consistently steal blood with a single stick, and my veins are sneaky jerks.), Oncologist six month chat, and the dreaded bone density drug infusion.
Last time I did this, the day after I felt like I’d taken a beating. Today my awesome nurse is pumping me full of extra fluids and slowing the infusion down to see if we can make it any better. Why not skip it? Because I’d like my bones to stay strong, despite my anti-recurrence med.
Tomorrow, I’ll be somewhere on a spectrum between ok-to-be-up-and-working and lying in bed trying not to move while I sob.
Survivorship is wild.
Strength to you sister. Very glad for you for getting to seven years. I just reached seven post a five year recurrence. You are so right about the excellence of the chemo nurses! The labs phlebotomist at my clinic is also amazing. He’s not missed my tiny squiggly veins once in twelve years.
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Hey Jess, you got this! Hang in there. 🥰
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