Journal entry by Mandi Morris —
Hello all,
Chemotherapy is finished! My last treatment was right before Christmas.
It has been a while since the last post as I have been contemplating what this post might sound like. There is so much to celebrate, but I struggled a bit with chemotherapy ending. Crazy, right? It wasn't the actual chemotherapy that I was going to miss, but the proactive feeling it gave me. Don't get me wrong, chemotherapy sucks. The side effects were painful and stinky, but I did look forward to visiting with Nurse Mary, and the information rich time it was. We were constantly looking at my numbers, tracking side effects, and checking in with doctors. There was something about that which gave me comfort.
So, the transition to scans every three months followed by an oncologist visit each time is a huge celebration. Yet, also a huge transition from knowing where my health stood to wondering/waiting. So, over the past month, we have been making the mental shift, leaning on God and releasing control. Wondering when the cancer will return and worrying about scan results is not a good use of energy, especially because energy is not of endless supply.
Let me share some of the most recent celebrations. This last week, I had my first scan and other than a blocked stent, it showed no new tumors. So awesome. Additionally, I had my port removed, which I did not realize how great that would feel. Physically I feel better and better each day, and am back at work full time. My colleagues are so wonderful, and work is one of the things that brings me JOY.
With chemotherapy, I gained quite a bit of weight some because of steroids, but mostly because of the "If I have to endure chemo, I can eat what I want" attitude. So, I have begun eating healthy and walking, not because of my size (while I admit I HATE not fitting into clothes) but because it is something I can control and I like to feel good.
Our conversation with Dr. D (oncologist) at the last treatment was a bit more serious than our other visits. We discussed, where to now. He named the cancer incurable and while I knew this without the term, it was a bit difficult to hear. All this means is that the cancer, as far as science know, will be in my body forever. We are like BFF's, destine to be together. It can and may lay dormant until I am 100, but since it likely traveled through the circulatory system to my lungs; it is just part of me now. Typically, the cancer should come back quicker and quicker each time, but let's be REAL there is nothing typical about me or my story. :)
So science's expectation for my life sucks, but God's plan for my life does not. As Dr. D so eloquently said, everyone's survival rate everyday is either 0% or 100%. We are either completely ALIVE or we are not. I choose to be completely alive and rely on God's plan. I hope to do my best each day to enjoy moments, occasions, and years in the way we all should; slowing down the busy, appreciating the joy, and expressing LOVE and gratitude as much as I can. My days are no more numbered than yours, but I have been reminded that they could be. Yes, I will still worry from time to time and maybe even try to control the situation, yet I know in those moments that there will be something that reminds me to 'Give it to God and Let Go'. It is really all we can do each and every day.
While that is an update of my health and state of mind recently, there is a part of the past year I have not mentioned. The pure LOVE that we have been surrounded with, each and every day. The supply of scarves and gifts my mom sent, the meals from neighbors, the cut up fruits and veggies, the cards, flowers, cleaning, texts, phone calls... I could go on and on. The endless love and support made a difficult time, much easier. Tommy and I only wish there were words that we could say that would truly show our gratitude, but there simply are not. Please know that not one gesture went unnoticed or unappreciated. May we, in coming day, pass on this love to others, just as you have done for us.
Much love,
Mandi
Chemotherapy is finished! My last treatment was right before Christmas.
It has been a while since the last post as I have been contemplating what this post might sound like. There is so much to celebrate, but I struggled a bit with chemotherapy ending. Crazy, right? It wasn't the actual chemotherapy that I was going to miss, but the proactive feeling it gave me. Don't get me wrong, chemotherapy sucks. The side effects were painful and stinky, but I did look forward to visiting with Nurse Mary, and the information rich time it was. We were constantly looking at my numbers, tracking side effects, and checking in with doctors. There was something about that which gave me comfort.
So, the transition to scans every three months followed by an oncologist visit each time is a huge celebration. Yet, also a huge transition from knowing where my health stood to wondering/waiting. So, over the past month, we have been making the mental shift, leaning on God and releasing control. Wondering when the cancer will return and worrying about scan results is not a good use of energy, especially because energy is not of endless supply.
Let me share some of the most recent celebrations. This last week, I had my first scan and other than a blocked stent, it showed no new tumors. So awesome. Additionally, I had my port removed, which I did not realize how great that would feel. Physically I feel better and better each day, and am back at work full time. My colleagues are so wonderful, and work is one of the things that brings me JOY.
With chemotherapy, I gained quite a bit of weight some because of steroids, but mostly because of the "If I have to endure chemo, I can eat what I want" attitude. So, I have begun eating healthy and walking, not because of my size (while I admit I HATE not fitting into clothes) but because it is something I can control and I like to feel good.
Our conversation with Dr. D (oncologist) at the last treatment was a bit more serious than our other visits. We discussed, where to now. He named the cancer incurable and while I knew this without the term, it was a bit difficult to hear. All this means is that the cancer, as far as science know, will be in my body forever. We are like BFF's, destine to be together. It can and may lay dormant until I am 100, but since it likely traveled through the circulatory system to my lungs; it is just part of me now. Typically, the cancer should come back quicker and quicker each time, but let's be REAL there is nothing typical about me or my story. :)
So science's expectation for my life sucks, but God's plan for my life does not. As Dr. D so eloquently said, everyone's survival rate everyday is either 0% or 100%. We are either completely ALIVE or we are not. I choose to be completely alive and rely on God's plan. I hope to do my best each day to enjoy moments, occasions, and years in the way we all should; slowing down the busy, appreciating the joy, and expressing LOVE and gratitude as much as I can. My days are no more numbered than yours, but I have been reminded that they could be. Yes, I will still worry from time to time and maybe even try to control the situation, yet I know in those moments that there will be something that reminds me to 'Give it to God and Let Go'. It is really all we can do each and every day.
While that is an update of my health and state of mind recently, there is a part of the past year I have not mentioned. The pure LOVE that we have been surrounded with, each and every day. The supply of scarves and gifts my mom sent, the meals from neighbors, the cut up fruits and veggies, the cards, flowers, cleaning, texts, phone calls... I could go on and on. The endless love and support made a difficult time, much easier. Tommy and I only wish there were words that we could say that would truly show our gratitude, but there simply are not. Please know that not one gesture went unnoticed or unappreciated. May we, in coming day, pass on this love to others, just as you have done for us.
Much love,
Mandi
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