As I sit down to write this final post, I'm humming Linkin Park's In The End to myself. I realize the song is about a breakup, and therefore not technically applicable (did I break up with cancer? seems like a bit of a stretch, imo), but this is how my brain works. Yes, I will have ongoing meds and a reconstructive surgery in about a year, but theoretically my main cancer treatment is over as of last Wednesday when I had my last radiation treatment. I rang the gong again, in case you were wondering. Twice actually, because the first time I tapped it too softly and was told to do it again by the Cancer Center staff. No one wants to miss a reason to celebrate together in the Cancer Center.  

My skin is officially upset about the radiation at this point. My treatment for it is a combination of lotions, lidocaine cream and, of all things, Desitin. The latter is trying its best to ruin all of my clothes and leave me smelling like a baby bum with a diaper rash, but the effects are otherwise positive so far.  

What lies ahead at this point is territory that I've been dreading a bit. This seems a little backwards, but as the effects of treatment begin to fade and my family heads off to school today, it's time to start working toward my "new normal" after cancer. My body won't ever be the same, I'm missing a whole boob after all, but there could be other changes as well. Right now this feels like an enormous and somewhat nebulous task, and I know that I have to approach it with patience and care.

This is also my last update, as it's not really my intention to chronicle my everyday life going forward. As long as the treatments all worked as intended, there won't be anything more to say. Thanks for coming along on this journey with me, I'm truly grateful for the homecooked meals, the notes, the words of encouragement, and the memes.  

All of this is (in the immortal words of Ferris Bueller) to say:

You're still here?

It's over. 

Go home. 

*waves hand* Go.