Today, August 30th, I had my last radiation treatment.
That's what I started writing four months ago. I stopped writing because the exhaustion from the treatment and its aftermath became too much too handle. I also stopped because every time I visited this page it was all I could do to hold back the tears.
On August 30th my mother accompanied me to the 'Cancer Center' for my final radiation treatment. She was treated like royalty and was given a tour of the treatment room and an explanation of the process. She seemed to take it well. I asked her to wait for me outside, in the waiting room, since I did not want her to see her daughter on that table and I suspected it might be difficult for me knowing this was "the end." I know myself pretty well.
It was all I could do to keep from collapsing to the floor in tears when I walked out of the treatment room. But for my mother's sake, I held it together, somewhat, just long enough to get home and dash off to my bedroom where I could let the tears flow. It was as much a catharsis as anything else.
Over the course of the next couple of days I found myself hiding out for a teary moment or two while my parents remained with me. I had read that the period after treatment can be the most difficult. Up until that time every day was full of decision making or reading, studying and assessing my options.
Now what would I do?
L
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