Radiation is Over!!

I have a new lease on life now that radiation is behind me.  I thought I'd just be happy about getting that extra time back in the day but I'm surprised at how relieved I feel.  I no longer have a daily appointment looming over my head and even though I got used to the claustrophobic mask the whole experience was still disturbing.  I mean how could being immobilized on a table so I could get zapped by radiation ever feel normal? 
I have a large pile of thank-you notes I need to send to all the people who helped me get through the last six weeks of awful.  I was feeling so discouraged and stressed and didn't know what else to do except to pray.  So that's what I did.  I prayed for help and it didn't take long for help to come.  I still had to do radiation, care for a newborn, and help with the opening of our practice.  None of those hard things were removed from my life but at least I was given the help to get through all those things in ways I could never have imagined.  I have learned to swallow my pride and wave the white flag of defeat.  Letting people see me at my worst and allowing people to help me was hard a first but once I swallowed my pride and surrendered, my burdens were lifted.
My last day of radiation was weird.  I went in and got zapped just like I had every time before that, but when I hopped off the table for the last time I had a spring in my step.  Win, my favorite tech who always told me to slow down as I hurried down the hall, put my mask in a garbage bag for me to take home and I joked that I should have brought a bow to make it look all official.  Then I got to ring the bell, signifying the end of treatment, while Sarah and Bria, my other two techs, cheered and took pictures.  I laughed through the whole thing.  Mostly because I felt like a fraud.  I'm not bald {not completely anyway} or sick, or dying.  Ringing that bell is for people who really had to fight.  But you know what?  I'm still a cancer survivor.  I had cancer and now it's gone.  {I hope.}  And now I get to spend the rest of my life going in for follow-ups to check that I don't have cancer, and being paranoid at any little bump or brown spot that appears on my skin.  So I decided to ring that bell with pride, hugged my techs goodbye, and laughed when Win handed me my mask with a big bow on it that he'd managed to dig up from somewhere.  With tears in our eyes, I hugged my friend Laura, goodbye too.  Her battle with breast cancer is far from over.  I could see the fear and uncertainty in her eyes as we talked in the waiting room while doing the jigsaw puzzle each day.  I told her I would keep her in my prayers, and I have.  To all my friends and family both near and far who have been praying for me, sending gifts and cards, watching my kids, making meals, and loving Henry while I went to my appointments, you have changed me.  The kindness that was shown to me was unprecedented and more than I deserved, but definitely appreciated. 

So creepy!  And trust me, there were days when this mask was much tighter than others.  If I didn't lay in just the right position I knew right away! 

Check out those awesome bolts that snapped me to the table.  They remind me of Frankenstein!

 I am in the process of permanently losing about an inch of hair from my hairline and new blisters are emerging each day.  The surface of my skin doesn't have any feeling but my head hurts underneath.  You know that ache you get when you have a bad cold and you bend over and the pressure hurts your head?  That's how my head feels. And it itches.  Due to a cowlick I have parted my hair in the same place my entire life which shows off my scarring rather than hiding it. I am now trying to train my hair to part in the other direction to cover the site up.  It's a losing battle. 

These pictures of Henry were taken my first and last day of radiation.  He's grown a lot in 6 weeks! He's not going to know what hit him when he gets to take a morning nap in his bed every single day instead of getting hauled around to be babysat.  I'm so glad he's too young to remember the chaos of the past six weeks!

Thankfully

Soccer season is So. Not. Over.  I don't know what made me think I could post that previously because Marcus absolutely loves soccer so there is always some type of soccer going on.  Because I'm always on the lookout for any opportunity where he can play and learn without interfering with Sundays, I signed him up for a weekly clinic.  It's every Friday afternoon for an hour and it's almost a twenty-five minute drive to get there.  It's definitely a sacrifice to make this work and I have to be at the top of my game to get him there but it's worth it nonetheless. 
Here's how it happened yesterday:
Over breakfast I told the boys the schedule for the day, and it was a doozy.  I had a guy coming to repair our van windshield, twenty women/children coming for book group and as soon as book group was over I had to drive carpool for Marcus {assuming the van was finished being repaired, which it was but only by a few minutes}.   I told Landon he wouldn't be going to preschool that day because I couldn't be in two places at once {he cheered}, and I told Ethan he had to be the first kid off the bus at his stop so he could hop in the van where we would all be waiting for him so we could rush off to Marcus's soccer clinic where we would only be a few minutes late if everything went according to plan and if I drove like a mad woman. So ya know, no pressure.
The busy day went smoothly, the boys were loaded in the van and we drove off to the bus stop.  As we waited for the bus I realized Marcus didn't have his soccer ball or a water bottle.  I freaked out and told him to run home while I picked up Ethan from the bus which was pulling up right then.  Ethan jumped into the van as fast as could be {such a good boy} and we drove back home for Marcus.  This was not part of the plan and I was so angry you could practically see the steam coming out of my ears.  I pulled into the driveway and honked the horn.  No Marcus.  Then I opened the garage door so I could run inside and yell for him and there he was, in the garage, frantically pumping up an old soccer ball because he couldn't find his ball.  I pretty much thought my head was going to explode I was so angry and told him to get in the car with the flat ball.
We made it to the clinic only two minutes late because I can maneuver a minivan through traffic like it's nobody's business.  While Marcus played soccer I took the younger boys to the nearest toy store where they enjoyed creating their Christmas wish list and I got really good at saying, "No, I will not buy you that _______.  Maybe Santa will bring it for Christmas."  We were having a great time until we realized Parker needed a diaper change in a bad way.  After herding the boys into the restroom I discovered I had diaper wipes but no diaper so Parker got to have his first "commando" experience.  We picked up a sweaty but smiley Marcus from soccer and drove home after a long day.  As the boys jumped out of the van and ran inside Marcus said, "Thanks for driving me to soccer, Mom.  It was really fun."
My jaw dropped and I almost cried.  I've driven this kid around to a million different things and he usually remembers to say thanks but I felt like this was the first time he actually got it.  He got that it wasn't easy or convenient or fun for me, but he knew I did it because I love him {and I love a good challenge}.  I was shocked and sat in the van for a few minutes by myself reflecting on what had just happened.  An attitude of gratitude goes a long way.  It melted my heart and turned my chaotic day into a meaningful one just by feeling appreciated.  It was a good day.