I honestly didn’t think I’d get better. Instead, I reconciled to just enjoy each day and rest in the hope that God would take me when it’s my time.
But now…I’ve turned a corner, and my doctor said if things continue this way, I can possibly stop treatments in October and go on “observation.” This won’t mean I’m in remission, but it’s the next best thing. It means they’ll try to keep me “stable” for as long as they can—which could be a long time (way longer than two years anyway!). THIS is a miracle! Thank you for all of your kindness and ALL of your prayers.
I told my family and some of them cried, but the message that floored me came from my 12-year-old. She messaged back, “Mama is going to be okay.”
Those words made me cry because I’m so glad for the greatest gift of all: more time with the people I love.
My parents went to my treatments today. We all took a nap, and at one point I woke up and cried a little bit. I’m so incredibly happy to be turning a corner, but I wish all of us could get better at the infusion unit. Maybe I have to remember my first thoughts: It’s important to rest in the hope that God will take everyone when it’s their time. I thought all of this as the music therapist started singing during my infusion: “Don’t Stop Believing” and the words “some will win; some will lose.” I think all of us have won something in that place because we’ve grown through the journey. Some appreciate life more then ever before. Some have started finally pursuing their dreams after years of achieving what others wanted for them (instead of what they wanted for themselves). And people, like me, have grown closer to their families. I want everyone to “win” and get better though. I guess I just want them to feel as good as I do today. In this exact moment.
For now, I’ll continue writing about my journey, but I am so excited for good, life-changing news.
Like I keep saying, I am the luckiest. THIS is amazing.