It feels pretty good to be firmly planted in 2019 with the year of cancer and treatment behind me. I finished my chemo pills as scheduled on Dec. 4th, the last day of my trip to DC. For so many reasons I was delighted to stop popping those Xeloda pills morning and night. The gastrointestinal side effects over the last couple of weeks in November were especially rough, not to mention the peeling of skin on the tips of my finger and soles of my feet (copious amounts of bag balm helped to some degree, though it was a struggle to keep the cracks from bleeding). But I also I felt a bit like I had come to top of the mountain, a steep mountain I had not planned to climb. It had been a pretty tough climb and here I was at the top and now....

Well, now what? 

Though weary, I was aware of some new muscles and perspective I'd been fortunate to acquire along the way and honestly these two things alone made the climb worthwhile. 

Getting through my treatments, through chemo and radiation, frequent trips to and from Boston, through one surgery and then another followed by four more months of chemo, required me to focus my attention and maintain momentum to stay on course. I had a goal and I had reached it! Friends and family congratulated me, of course all with the kindest of intentions. But, instead of feeling the exclamation point I felt more of a question mark. I assume the cancer has been left behind on the mountain, but truthfully I can't be certain of this. I can see too now that I found some comfort in being in treatment; knowing I was doing everything I could to rid my body of every last cancer cell. But it's all in my rearview mirror getting a little bit smaller every day as I move forward. I know I will continue to glance back and I'm pretty sure I will do so more often than I want to. I am already anticipating, with some anxiety my first post-treatment scans that are scheduled for mid-February. 

Physically I am continuing to feel better every day and I have never been more appreciative of waking up and feeling good. The experience along with its accompanying stream of love and support I was so lucky to receive at every single step of the way has given me the determination I need to look forward with strength, hope, curiosity and excitement. Thank you for this! 

I learned a lot about myself, my body (my digestive system--more than I ever wanted to know about my digestive system!) but more importantly about what a loving family and group of friends and community I am a part of and look forward to being a part of for so many years to come. 

Life is hard. Life is beautiful.

Sunset on December 2nd, as thousands of people were lining up outside
of the Capital to pay their final respects to George HW Bush.

My trip to DC was a fitting end to the year. I flew into DC on Dec. 2nd, the same day that the late George HW Bush arrived to lie in state at the Capitol rotunda. I stayed at a hotel that was just a couple blocks from the Capital. There were police and military on every corner, flashing lights and motorcades coming by even more than usual. The solemnity of the day was palpable in the air. 

I was with 9 other colon cancer survivors from all across the US. After spending a little time getting to know each other, we worked on how best to "tell our stories" to our representatives when we met with them the following day. We focused on explaining how and why the repeal of the Medical Device Tax would allow for increased availability of potentially life-saving scans for other Americans in situations similar to ours. Many of the members of our group and even more fellow survivors live from one scan to the next, and their lives depend quite literally on technological advancements that are currently on hold because the device tax means that these companies are diverting money from research and development.  

On our way to meet with our representatives.  (I am the third one in from the left.)

As it turned out, the government was closed for a day of mourning on Wednesday, the day we were scheduled to meet with our representatives. On that chilly, grey day the streets we walked along were filling with people gathering to watch the motorcade go by. Most of us, myself included were still able to meet with our designated representatives and staffers. While I was waiting to meet with Senator Maggie Hassan's staffer we watched on TV the scene that was taking place just a block away as Bush's coffin was carried down the steps of the Capitol building to the van that carried his body to the National Cathedral for his funeral service. 

It felt good about being able to tell my story and use my experience to encourage Senator Hassan to push harder to make the repeal of the tax happen as soon as possible.