Chemo is over. Hallelujah, holy shit, chemo is over!

It feels as if I’ve been holding my breath since the moment I received my diagnosis in May and I am just now giving myself permission to exhale. My shoulders are no longer glued to my ears and my shoulder blades are gliding down my back, going home.

If I were to draw a timeline for navigating a cancer diagnosis it would look like this:

But timelines are deceiving. In reality the segments bleed into one another and none ever come to complete closure before the next one begins. Nothing about cancer fits neatly into a box. Nothing about life does either, really.

On the day of my final chemo infusion I also met with a plastic surgeon about my mastectomy and reconstruction. (Surgery, be it lumpectomy or mastectomy, typically happens within 3-6 weeks of finishing chemotherapy*)

I’ll write a post all about chemo (the gist of it will be something like: remaining eyelashes - 3, remaining fucks - 0) but for now this is what the next few months will look like for me:

My double mastectomy is scheduled for mid-October at Memorial Sloan Kettering in NYC. Six weeks later I’ll start radiation. Radiation will be daily for 5-6 weeks. Six months after I finish radiation I’ll have reconstructive surgery. The pathology from my mastectomy will inform what happens after that.

I am going to spend this weekend enjoying not being stuck in bed, recovering from chemo. I’m also going to soak up as much time with my kids doing as many basic fall activities as I can (I’m coming for you, apple cider doughnuts).

*This is specific to my diagnosis and cancer. Many people have surgery first followed by chemo, or have surgery without chemo at all. You can read more about my diagnosis and treatment plan here.