Adios cancer, Gracias a Dios

Last Wednesday I got this undocked from my vena cava via the subclavian, and basically it has sailed away from my ecstatic right pec muscle. This put the emphatic closure on my chemo cocktail tab. Bartender, no mas por favor. Gracias a Dios.
I have to say that I did not enjoy being awake while the doc undocked Port Rapha. It wasn't the worst thing in the world, because they did give me quite a few shots to numb the area. But I prefer my conscious being numbed at times like that. I would rank it up there with having the stitches yanked out of my eyelid this past May. And childbirth. But not as bad as having the drains removed after the mastectomy. (Nods and no offense to Rita, said remover. Props to Dr. Runk, said undocker. Honorable mention to my kids.)

Dave and the kids really wanted to see what the "golf ball" that had been teed up on my massive right tennis pec looked like, so I came prepared for surgery with a nice bottle of true Portuguese Port, in hopes of a little bartering action.

We ended up bringing home Port Rapha. Not sure what to do with it. But right now it is hanging in a little shrine of a display on a picture window next to my kitchen table.

Last Friday we had an End of Chemo Cocktail Party/Port Rapha Bon Voyage at the Evanshire. Our happy little hobbit hole was graced with so many friends who have been the kind of friends you get by with a little help from your friends with. I have been so blessed; and I am so grateful. Can I just say that my not-a-chemo-cocktail-party was just about one of my fave nights ever. Thank you everyone, who shared the night with me. Whether in presence or in spirit, I was feeling the love, and digging it! Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

One of the highlights of my evening was when my Redheads sang the song they had written for my last chemo cocktail. Before you click HERE to see the YouTube video, there are no bleeps in the video, so listening discretion may be advised, since the song is called, "Cancer is a B!TC#" ;) Just saying.

Pictured above, are a few of my fellow serenadees/survivors at the non-chemo cocktail party. Cathy Baker and I go to church together and are in the same homeschool co-op. She is about a year ahead of me in both the surviving and hair growth business. She lent me all her hats last winter when I was bald. I thought I might get a few curls by osmosis in the transaction, but not a wave. Shelly Emrick is my chemo cocktail buddy. We met on my birthday in the chemo lounge in September and instantly connected. She was like a birthday present to me. Sunshine in the chemo lounge. And boy did we turn the place upside down when we were doing chemo cocktails together! It always felt like a party instead of chemo. Because of Shelly. She is on the same cocktail flights I was on and is past the "bad" chemo and onto the Herceptin only, and thus, her own countdown to end of chemo, which will end in September and be my fave birthday present. Go Shelly! Amy Inkrot is a kindred spirit who works with high school students (including my kids who ADORE her) at our church. She is a spunky spry one, having just recently defeated thyroid cancer...not to mention a legit freefaller. After she heard the c-word, she decided not to take that sitting down; she flew. Very, very cool, in my book.

Monday I had my 6 month check up with my breast surgeon. Thankfully, there were "no peas in the pod" during the exam, so basically I passed with flying colors and don't have to go back for another 6 months.

I've happily been downgraded to "maintenance" in all departments cancer. I can't tell you how happy my calendar is to have no more chemo cocktails on it, and not even a single oncologist appointment in the whole month of January. After a year-and-a-half of from twice a week to once every three weeks. It's like a blizzard hit the January leaf of my calendar. Which is about as close to snow as I like to get.

I think my first maintenance check up with my oncologist is in February. I don't even know for sure because my appointment card is playing hide and seek. But the joke is on it, because I'm just sitting here lol-ing while it's thinking it's being all sneaky. I'm not even looking for it! Once February rolls around, I'm sure my phone will ring and there will be that friendly reminder. I think that's when she will schedule all the scans, that oughta look something like this:

Don't worry; I think it's perfectly normal for post chemo scans to read backwards. Chemo is some pretty funky stuff.

Anyway, all that to say, I think I am ready to retire my chemo card and revamp my blog's cancer status as well. I hope that's not going to be too boring for all my faithful readers?

Remember... cancer is a bitch, but God is good!

Cheers and love, everyone!