Friday, March 27, 2009

The tortoise & the hare

I have an official date for my last chemo infusion: May 20th. Wednesday, May 20th, 2009 I will have my final chemotherapy infusion, finishing a treatment protocol that began two years ago. It's not all cut and dry though - the transition out of my treatment will be gradual; slow, but sure; slow and steady wins the race; whatever you want to call it, it's not going to be all presto, change-o. Trust me, a part of me wishes it was, but it's going to take months for all the chemo, steroids, drugs, and general nastiness to get out of my system. Plenty of side effects from chemotherapy are delayed and I already know that from my chemotherapy effects like fatigue are not only delayed but cumulative as well. So it's going to take me a while to adjust: my energy, my weight, my metabolism, my body, my confidence, my sense of self - all of that is going to take time. And I don't know how much.

My diagnosis happened at a natural time of transition. I hadn't even graduated from university when I was struck by this disease and so my whole transition into young adulthood has completely changed. I know from watching and listening to my friends and family that it's hard enough as it is to move into the real world. I'm finally getting ready to make that move myself and I have leukemia thrown into the mix. The treatment alone will have taken over two years of my life, and yet even with all of that in many ways I will never be 'done'. My experience with leukemia, with cancer, is something that I will carry throughout the rest of my life. It is something that I have to grow with, evolve with, and adapt.

As we live, our actions shape who we are, change our perspectives, teach us new things. Our experiences become our teachers, and we constantly learn from them, whether it's through personal relationships, working, or traveling. For me it's a fine line relating cancer to myself; I don't like to think of it as a defining factor, yet I can't deny it's impact on my life. So maybe you spent a semester abroad, or perhaps you were just laid off from your job; maybe you've met someone, or you finally broke out from a long relationship. I have leukemia. But just like you, after any major experience you have to stop, regroup, gather yourself, and move on to the next step.

So here we go: on with the next chapter, moving ahead, turning the page. Am I nervous? Heck yes. Do I know what lies ahead? Heck no. But I'm learning (and struggling) as I go along. Day by day I eventually get through, so that's how I'm taking it. Slow and steady wins the race!

3 comments:

Patricia Vinci said...

Dear Stephanie,
Remember me? Your parents' old law school friend? I haven't commented often on your blog, but your latest, "the tortoise & the hare" requires a comment. You know that this is the beginning of the beginning of the end of one phase. This is a huge milestone. Take pride. Marvel at your past strength. Everyone else does.
Love, Patricia Vinci

e said...

Slow and steady indeed wins the race! You have been so strong for the last two years and all your experience will help you through the next.

Spring is springing - a time for growth and renewal, I couldn't imagine a better time for the end of this chapter and the beginning of the next.

I'm so excited to see you in July! It has simply been, too long.

*hug* and xoxoxoxoxo

kam said...

dude, where is my Wednesday update?!