First of all:
“What’s that? Do I want to “go again.” Um.. no. Don’t you get it? that was for all the marbles, and you lost. I won. And it wasn’t even very much fun. I said it before, and I’ll say it again, You shoulda done some research. Anyone could have told you.”
Fuck. What a year. I am beat down. Emotionally, physically.. busted. I’ve got nothing left. Treatment is over, but apparantly the side effects will linger on. The nose bleeds will hang on until the avastin is out of my system. The strange nueropathy in the hands and face will take a while to disapear. Still, the relief of not having to go back in there for any more chemo makes me weep with relief.
My dad’s death is heavy on my mind. I’ve started to dream about him nightly. I’m mostly at peace with it, but very sad. So the major emotions these last days have been sadness and relief. While they may seem like strange bedfellows, I think that they go together more often than you’d think. At least it’s a familiar feeling to me, but wildly exaggerated.
I want to thank you all for your support. Sincerely. It’s been a great outlet through this year to be able to write here, and know that there are people reading. I can’t stress it enough. There have been some great lessons this year. The biggest perhaps has been the dose of humilty dealt by realizing just how much good will, and real generosity there is out there. Thank you.
And now. Time to pack up. The whirlwind wedding tour begins. Off to Miami.