Tomorrow I report for breast cancer chemo treatment #6. Lord willing, it will be the last. As I lay here in bed trying to fall sleep, clearly not a task I’m succeeding in at that moment, I’m overwhelmed with gratitude. I remember the first visit with my oncologist where he laid out my treatment plan. To start, “you’ll be having 6 rounds of chemo every 3 weeks.” I’m not great at math, but it didn’t take me long to get to 18. It sounded like an E-T-E-R-N-I-T-Y. I was terrified. Now, somehow, here I am. On the other side of 18 weeks. Did I really make it to the other side? Nothing about the past 18 weeks has been fun or easy. It also hasn’t been as bad as my imagination told me it could be. Grace, good medicine, a fabulous oncologist, and support team I feel undeserving of have escorted me on this journey. They get the credit for getting me to the other side. Grace has bolstered me when darkness has clouded my mind. Good medicine, oh man, it’s kept from making...
Written by a Georgia peach. Not literally, but if you don't get that analogy, this may not be the place for you. Kidding. So glad you are here! Specifically excited to encourage and champion young women fighting breast cancer as I share my experience as breast cancer survivor diagnoses at the age of 32.