I have been remiss in not providing an update sooner. The last one mentioned that I would be done with my immunotherapy at the end of January, but soon after that update, our entire family came down with COVID around Thanksgiving, which pushed my treatment out a bit. 

My last immunotherapy infusion was on February 13, and I rang the bell again to signify the end of treatment. Unfortunately, Scott had to be away on a business trip, so Audrey came with me. It was an emotional day--saying goodbye (hopefully for good) to the nurses who had been with us since that first chemotherapy appointment on February 3 of last year. Their smiling faces and general good cheer helped get us through some rough months, and I will always be grateful. That cannot be easy work. They are angels in my book.

Because immunotherapy was pushed out, my port removal was also slightly delayed. I had that taken out on March 1 in my surgeon's office--hooray! I was VERY excited for that milestone. So strange to think I'd been carrying that plastic device around in my body for over a year, and although it was annoying at times, I was glad to have it. It made those infusions so much easier and essentially painless. But also...good riddance!

And then, weirdly, I was done. Such relief mixed with a strange uneasiness. Somehow being in active treatment makes you feel safe--like no cancer cells could possibly be growing because you're getting the drugs to stop them. But once you are done, you are supposed to just go about your life and hope for the best. It's a little like when you have a baby and for those couple of days afterward, the hospital staff around you is caring for both of you 24/7 until suddenly they send you on your way and expect you to TAKE CARE OF THAT NEW BABY WITHOUT THEM.

Of course, I will be seeing my oncologist and surgeon regularly--every 3 months for the time being. But otherwise, I just take my Tamoxifen and rejoin my life, already in progress.

Here's what that looks like these days: I have a new job at my friend Dianne's company, right down the street from my house, doing accounts payable and receivable 30 hours a week. I had worked for Safex from 2015-17 in a different role, and even though I don't have a finance background (aside from being the theater booster treasurer at my kids' school), it's work that suits my attention to detail, is not stressful, and comes with benefits. Plus the people I work with are lovely. I had been hoping for something with benefits for our family that would also allow me to continue working for Good Medicine Productions. This job checks all of those boxes, which seems like a minor miracle. One day a week, I still get to work a shift or 2 for Good Medicine, performing in nursing homes and senior centers. It is a perfect solution for my situation, and my mental health has improved significantly now that I am no longer in limbo, wondering what comes next.

Meanwhile, Scott and I have developed a teeny, tiny obsession in the form of a weekly trivia night at a local establishment with 3 of our good friends. It is slightly embarrassing how much we enjoy our Tuesday nights out, but we're not letting that stop us.

Greta is in semester 2 of her junior year at BGSU and enjoying living in an off-campus apartment. Audrey is working hard and getting ready to start college in the fall--but which college is still up in the air. Susanna is in 10th grade and doing a lot of theater and socializing.

And now it's time to close this chapter of our lives. It has been frightening and terrible in so many ways. It has also contained more beauty and love and kindness than seems possible. I am profoundly grateful to all of you who have supported us along the way. You will likely never know how very much it has meant to our family.

Thank you. We love you.❤️