The Last Day

Sixteen days.

Monday through Friday.

Doesn't seem like a lot, yet it is. For me.

Speaking with friends who persevered through their own breast cancer journey, the length of time varies. Just like the dosage. Just like the way radiation is administered.

Thursday, August 22nd was my last treatment.

The team at Cedars-Sinai was exemplary. These women and men truly exhibited why they chose their professions and careers. The care and attention they gave made this unnerving and uncomfortable situation less so. They made me feel at ease. I am so grateful for them.

I was in the waiting room twice when someone's treatment was over and they rang the bell, yet both times I was sitting in a view obstructed area. I still cheered and applauded but I had no idea of the actual fanfare.

This day was my turn.

When I walked into the beam room the team celebrated with me that this was the last one. I climbed onto the table and lowered myself into position like a boss! When the process was finished I raised myself up, again like a boss, and climbed down off the table. After I got dressed, there were smiles and hugs and a bunch of "best wishes and we hope we don't see you again."

As I walked out they said, "Ring the bell really loud!!"

My friend Kirsten came with me to record me ringing the bell. I thought it would be a simple moment of walking up to the bell and ringing it. No.

After the nurse went over some more after care instructions and discharged me, another nurse came over with pom-poms, and a poem.

Yep, there was a poem.

I could barely get the words out, so overcome with emotion. I was done! I took a deep breath, and recited the poem through tears.

Then I rang the bell three times. I can't explain it. I don't think I could ever explain how I felt. Days, weeks later and still when I share that moment, I can't explain it. Though I still and will always remember how I felt.

I will always remember the cheers from the nurses, fellow patients, and family members of those waiting in the waiting room. I will always remember the hugs and the tears, their tears. I will always remember the phone calls from family and friends, and the text messages.

Going through this is no picnic. From discovery, to biopsy, to actual diagnosis, to pre-surgery procedures and processes, to surgery, to treatment, for five months I do not believe I've had one week void of a doctor's appointment. Cancer. It's a high maintenance disease that requires high maintenance resolve and recovery.

These sixteen days were monumental for me. Less than some and more than others, still monumental for me.

My last day of treatment was just as monumental. Thank you Kirsten for being with me and for capturing the moment. This was a day of celebration that was just beginning.

Father God, thank You for Your faithfulness to carry me through. Thank You for showing me that I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. Thank You for restoring health to me and healing me of my wounds. I am forever grateful for Your continued covering. In Jesus' name. Amen!

I pray that every patient receives their healing grace and gets to experience the joyful tears of their last treatment and that they ring the bell loud and proud.