just before the least treatment

My last treatment is in 2 hours. I am planning to stop by the school to meet Norm, make popcorn for recess, pick up the kids, and we will all go together to chemo. The third hill of this roller coaster will soon be over.

I had a dream last night about my still-grief-casuing ankle. I dreamt that since my ankle is still swollen almost one year later, that the doctors realized that my spinal fuild is slowly leaking out of me, and that I will have to have transfusions three times per week for one year. Worry. I am not a worrier, although my kids will disagree. That's different, though. I worry about them falling if I see them peering over the ferry railing, or climbing a high tree. I do not worry about the future. That's out of my hands. That aspect of my personality has been changed, though.

Cancer is my roller coaster ride. First hill - tests and diagnosis. Second hill - surgery. Third hill - chemotherapy. Fourth hill is the mastecomy. The fifth hill is radiation, the sixth is reconstruction, and the seventh hill is the long-term treatment plan. All these hills have an end, but there is no bottom to the eighth hill - worry. I will be on this ride for the rest of my days. What fun. I used to like roller coasters.