Yesterday, I had my last scheduled chemotherapy treatment! It seems like I've been having it for 100 years but in reality it's only about 9 months. The enforced break of 4 weeks while I got over pneumonia delayed everything and at the time felt like I was on a never ending hamster wheel but the day finally came, yesterday, for my last planned treatment.
I'm hesitating to say "my last chemo ever" because although I'd love for that to be the case, I don't want to tempt fate! When I have my mastectomy in January, if there are any cancer cells discovered, I'll be back on the chemo train again. My surgeon is fairly confident there won't be but ........... I think I'll look on the worst case and then anything better will be a bonus!
So what's next? Well, in 2 weeks, I'm having my dreaded alien (my port-a-cath) removed. It's served its purpose and I've not liked it one bit but it's saved my veins. In all honesty, the only discomfort is where it's attached at the neck and only noticeable when I turn my head so I shouldn't moan! Funnily enough, my port has been really difficult to access and only one of my breast care nurses has been successful on stabbing it first time! Until yesterday of course when she missed first time! We were both astonished as it's the first time she hasn't got it straight away. I've nicknamed her Queen of Ports in any case.
Talking of my breast care nurses - they've been fantastic throughout my treatment. I don't know how they do it because it's a tough job and they work such long hours. They'll always have a piece of my heart though and I gave them both a necklace I had made that I hope represents that.