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Chemo #6

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 my bathroom floor a permanent home. 

My oncologist, wow! Apart from one doctor who shall remain nameless, my oncologist is the best, most kind, empathetic, approachable, “wicked smart” (please get the movie quote) doctor I have ever encountered. Appointment after appointment he has sat with Clark and I as if we were the only patients he had for the day. He listens to me and answers my never ending stream of questions. I’m confident he finds it taxing, I definitely would, but he never lets on. And for some reason, that’s really important. 

The support team I feel so undeserving of includes a long list of friends and family. My husband, Clark, first and foremost. Helplessly watching your spouse endure a sickness like this can’t be easy. Especially for a man. They are, mostly, “fixers” by nature. And this is something he can’t fix. He’s been a trooper. #Gratefulforhim. Family has rallied around us like a team of secret service agents swarming their leader in danger. They’ve kept our fridge full and acted as our personal errand runners. They’ve sat for hours with us on our back porch as we sorted through the weight of our circumstances. They’ve spoken comfort and resolve into our lives.

The endless food train meals, random acts of kindness, facetime chats, and “You’re on my heart and in my prayers” texts from friends and even people I barely know have been an unforgettable outpouring of love and support. 


-Abby



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