There should have been a heavenly host of cherubim and seraphim poised to serenade me as I left the hospital this morning. There should have been. But, of course, there wasn't. Not even a solitary, tiny angel. It does feel a bit like an anti-climax after such a long journey.
By 08:20, I'd had my final treatment and I was home again by 09:00. "My" machine was playing up again, so my last session took place with another team of radiotherapists in another room. I know it makes no difference to what happens, but, psychologically, it would have been nice to have had closure with "my team".
Anyway, I've delivered my hospital discharge letter to my family doctors' surgery and read my own copy. All it tells me is what side-effects I may expect over the next week or two. It says nothing about possible long-term side-effects or side-effects that may begin in six - twelve months time. This is probably a good thing as I've scared myself silly by reading about these elsewhere!
What happens now? The end of this blog? Not yet. The entries may be a little less frequent, but I'm going to document the after-effects and after-care so that you know what to expect if you ever need treatment yourself. So, look here from time to time to see what's happening. And if you know of anyone who might find the story useful, please let them know about it.
Today, it gives me huge pleasure to write...
No more sessions... and no more counting!
5 comments:
Dear Lesley,
I send you a very big hug and relaise that I should have sent more of those over the past few weeks. Congratulations and I wish you 'no side effects'!
Mirjam
That's superb news, Lesley - well done for sticking it out as positively as you have done. Fingers crossed everything stays clear from now on in - no reason why it shouldn't!!
Well done Lesley. A BIG thank you for sharing your journey with us. Yes, the time has gone by quickly for those of us on the sideline, but you were always on our minds and I hope that this positive support has helped you through the past weeks.
Now to the future. No doubt you will suffer some anxious moments as each checkup time arrives. Remember that your friends will always be there with you, no matter how far away we may seem, and with each hurdle you cross you will grow in confidence and realise that you have been one of the lucky ones to have beaten this disease.
I wish you a long, happy, healthy and truly radiant life.
Love,
Margaret
Lesley,
I'm so glad to read that you're on the road to recovery.
Hang in there and know that you have a LOT of friends behind you in this. What would we do without friends?
Larry (aka Godzilla, among other things)
Hi Lesley from across the seas,
fabulous news...I was picturing you leaving the place with all the heavenly host around...I'm sure they were there (just invisible?)...keep on writing...
best love, Matthew
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