Ten days since my journey ended and I reached my destination. Ten days of free afternoons. Ten days of stopping after work to shop if I so wished (and I frequently wished). Ten days of not speeding down the expressways (yes, I am a law breaker) in a beat-the-clock race to my radiology appointment.
So this is what freedom feels like. I'd forgotten after seven months of treatments and doctor's appointments. But I remember now. And I like it.
It didn't feel like seven months. Seemed to go by faster than I thought it would at the outset.
But, would I want to jump right back into that routine? Absolutely not. I had the occasion to think about that when a lovely woman at church emailed and asked me where I got my wig (oops, "cranial prosthesis"), as the ovarian cancer she fought a year ago has reoccurred. Just as her hair returned to the thickness and length that she used to enjoy, she is preparing to lose it all over again; to feel nauseous and fatigued all over again; to give up her personal time all over again.
Cancer hijacks your life and resets your schedule. There's no denying it. But there is living with it. And now that it's no longer the engine that drives my life, I can focus on hoping and praying for the return to normalcy of a brave woman who's starting her own journey on an all-too-familiar path.
God speed, Diane.
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