I know I’m late with an update, but I think you’ll forgive me when I tell you all that…

I’M DONE! DONE! No more chemotherapy (hopefully ever again)! It feels so weird to say that I’m finished with treatment. I don’t think the full reality of it has hit me quite yet. But, for now, I get to say that I am a cancer survivor who kicked angiosarcoma’s butt.

I finished up on Wednesday. As if finishing up treatment was enough to make it a memorable day, my incredible family made it truly forgettable. Expecting to come home to an empty house after chemo, I was greeted by my wonderful husband waiting on the porch with roses and a sign. As I stood in the driveway and cried, my kids each came out of the house, one at a time, all with roses and another sign. Each sign detailed all I have endured this last year and a half. I cried so many happy tears that afternoon. I am so very lucky for so many reasons. And I vow never to forget that.

I do have at least one more surgery in my future, but that is scheduled for the fall. This summer is about recovering from treatment and repairing the damage while spending as much time as possible having fun with my family.

On another positive note, Caleb and I visited Houston the week before last. My CT scan was clear and my echocardiogram showed that my heart is strong. Dr. Ravi warned that many cancer patients can become depressed once treatment is over – their “job” of fighting cancer ends and they can feel lost. He told me to find hobbies or look for an exercise to get the endorphins going. He said to make sure I don’t find them in food which is a not-so-subtle way of saying “don’t eat your feelings.” After all this time, it seems that he still may think I’m sitting on my butt, watching daytime TV, and eating bonbons while Caleb waits on me. He obviously doesn’t know me at all because I seem to have an issue where I don’t rest enough, let alone too much. But it doesn’t matter. I know the weight gain he’s always hinting at is not my fault. Between the medications and my body’s determination to survive, I look very different from the person I was when I started this fight. I’m hoping as the steroids wear off and my body realizes I’m no longer “under attack” that I’ll start to recognize my reflection again.

I think, despite how different I look, the inside has changed even more. I’ve never felt luckier or more grateful to be alive. I’ve never been more appreciative of the man I married and the amazing partner he truly is. I’ve never been prouder of my children and the people they are becoming. I’m more optimistic than I’ve ever been. I plan on holding on to those changes for good.

The plan for now is to scan every 12 weeks for the next year. Dr. Ravi told us that two years after surgery (which is one year from now) the rate for recurrence drops by 80%. So even though the hard part is over, I still need your good thoughts and prayers to keep this beast away. I’ve done all I can at this point. Now we wait, we scan, and we live our lives to the fullest.

Thank you to everyone for all of your support through the last year and a half. I am truly humbled by all the love, gifts, meals, prayers, childcare, and messages. I will never be able to adequately thank you all but please know that I am so grateful for every one of you!