The last hurdle(s)

I didn't think I'd get this far, both mentally and physically. When I look back to December 21st last year just after my operation, I was told I would have a very steep mountain to climb. My surgeon, Mr C explained it as follows; surgery = sprint, treatment = marathon. I'm in the last third of the marathon now and I'm edging towards that finishing line. Going for gold! I'm going to stop crow barring as many Olympic analogies into this paragraph as possible now, but you get the picture.

So far in the past year, I've had the following happen to my body:

A caesarian
A 7 hour operation
IVF
6 rounds of chemotherapy
25 sessions of radiotherapy

I'm a bit tuckered out if I'm
honest and that's just the physical side. The emotional part has probably been worse, but I'm getting there. I've (almost) learnt to accept what's happened. Paul and I are a stronger couple because of our unfortunate series of events. This has turned out to be one of the biggest positives in the past year. If we can come through the darkness we've endured the past twelve months; there's absolutely nothing that can break our bond. I'm a very fortunate person to have Paul and I will always thank the day I met him (he'll love this).

So what's next?

I have 6 more sessions of chemotherapy, the last batch of my treatment forever (fingers very much crossed). Chemo number 7 starts next week, 24th July in the afternoon.

July 24th has huge significance for us, it would have been Autumn's 1st birthday. I like to think this is another little message she's sending me. I believe her energy is giving me the energy to push on through. My dear friend Veri (who's a mummy to an awesome little boy) thought the very same way, I guess I'm still thinking like mums do. At least, I hope I am.

We should be celebrating Autumn's 1st birthday and having a party play date with all the other little friends and cousins she should have met but didn't have the chance to. Instead, I'll go to her corner of the forest next Tuesday morning and thank her for protecting me once again. It doesn't seem right that she's looking after me, it should be the other way around. This what I have of her. I grip onto it dearly.

I've promised myself something for the next batch of treatment; it's going to be a hell of a lot less eventful than the last lot! I want to get through it with no middle of the night hospital trips, no more dramas! We're more prepared this time with how chemo affects me so I'm hoping that I can get through it with fewer hiccups.

My magical end date is October 2nd (actually October 4th if you take into consideration the pump removal) so here's to getting the next 3 months out of the way. You'll be hearing ALL about it I'm sure!

Hayley x