Two years ago today I completed radiotherapy treatment and rang the bell to signal the end of my treatment.
It seems like a lifetime ago in some respects. Isobel was a baby when I was finishing treatment, just mastering sitting up and blowing raspberries. Today I came down the stairs to find the fridge door flung open and my inpatient 2 ½ year old Isobel sloshing herself - and the dog - a glass or 3 of milk. Evie has gone from being a sweet and shy 2 year old, to a kind and curious 4 year old. She loves to copy words and will present her handywork to me in an envelope. With pride, she says “Is it beautiful Mummy? What does it say?” I have a stash of love notes which include messages such as, “100% oats, Cheerios, Maya Heart Worm Pill – Love Evie x”.
2 years in their life has been most of their lives. It makes it easy for me to forget it really wasn’t that long ago that my survival was reliant on access to a healthcare team, hospital, a drip with a cocktail of ABVD chemotherapy drugs and a linear accelerator machine. Kind of a big ask on reflection.
I’m very fortunate I’ve had my girls keeping me occupied. My days generally finish with a full, grateful heart and a dash of exhaustion -- not leaving much space for worry. When I was in treatment I remember coming across a sign in a coffee shop which read “worry is a misuse of imagination”. As an avid day dreamer with a vivid imagination, this resonated with me.
Poor Nick gets bombarded with these day dreams verbalized daily and has allowed me to cram as many adventures as possible into these past two years.
Although worry does still nip at my heels. I went to visit a new friend at a downtown hospital during her inpatient stay for treatment of a type on non-hodgkin lymphoma. Walking through the Hematology floor my heart was racing, I felt like a fraud who was clearly meant to be a patient not a visitor.
My beautiful friend has a heart of gold, is full of good humour and hilarious anecdotes. Worry has very few opportunities to play in her company. Today I got a call from her with news that left me prancing around the kitchen, her mid treatment PET scan results were in and the chemo is working. I’m so happy.
Here’s to 2 years, good PET scans and daydreams!
It seems like a lifetime ago in some respects. Isobel was a baby when I was finishing treatment, just mastering sitting up and blowing raspberries. Today I came down the stairs to find the fridge door flung open and my inpatient 2 ½ year old Isobel sloshing herself - and the dog - a glass or 3 of milk. Evie has gone from being a sweet and shy 2 year old, to a kind and curious 4 year old. She loves to copy words and will present her handywork to me in an envelope. With pride, she says “Is it beautiful Mummy? What does it say?” I have a stash of love notes which include messages such as, “100% oats, Cheerios, Maya Heart Worm Pill – Love Evie x”.
2 years in their life has been most of their lives. It makes it easy for me to forget it really wasn’t that long ago that my survival was reliant on access to a healthcare team, hospital, a drip with a cocktail of ABVD chemotherapy drugs and a linear accelerator machine. Kind of a big ask on reflection.
I’m very fortunate I’ve had my girls keeping me occupied. My days generally finish with a full, grateful heart and a dash of exhaustion -- not leaving much space for worry. When I was in treatment I remember coming across a sign in a coffee shop which read “worry is a misuse of imagination”. As an avid day dreamer with a vivid imagination, this resonated with me.
Poor Nick gets bombarded with these day dreams verbalized daily and has allowed me to cram as many adventures as possible into these past two years.
Although worry does still nip at my heels. I went to visit a new friend at a downtown hospital during her inpatient stay for treatment of a type on non-hodgkin lymphoma. Walking through the Hematology floor my heart was racing, I felt like a fraud who was clearly meant to be a patient not a visitor.
My beautiful friend has a heart of gold, is full of good humour and hilarious anecdotes. Worry has very few opportunities to play in her company. Today I got a call from her with news that left me prancing around the kitchen, her mid treatment PET scan results were in and the chemo is working. I’m so happy.
Here’s to 2 years, good PET scans and daydreams!
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