Hooray this was my last ever chemo!
Well, not quite. But last for some time, hopefully. Appropriately enough, I had the treatment in the same side room as my last, last ever chemo, last year.
For the final dose I had to go past the garden of tears to get to the chemo unit. It’s a small square of green outside the hospital where you can go if you need a moment. It was there that I posed for photographs to celebrate my last chemo nine months ago. This garden reminds me of the brief time last year when I was cancer free.
When I saw it I thought I’d be sad but I felt surprisingly good. It’s hard to believe that I’ve had so many toxic chemo cocktails and yet I didn’t feel too ill. I think that my spin around Silverstone with David Coulthard from my List for Living gave me such a boost that the side effects hadn’t been so awful.
As I entered the revolving doors I was glad that I was able to walk into the hospital. I had the physical strength to get in there myself. I didn’t need any assistance. And, most importantly, I was still able to have treatment. I may be living with cancer now but it can still help me. That’s perhaps also why I didn’t feel too terrible. Chemo has become part of my life.
I may have felt well when I went in. But hours of poisoning later and it was a different story. I felt so drugged up. It seemed like I’d been given extra strong stuff as it was the last one session. Chantal, my friend the flower girl, slowly led me back out of the hospital afterwards. My woozyness and the wet weather outside meant we didn’t linger for photos. Besides, I knew that I’d be back but I wasn’t focusing on that.
For 11 out of the past 14 months I’ve had cancer treatment. I really need a break from it all. Chantal drove me back to my parents in her flower van. As we headed through the rain to the countryside I was dreaming of my chemo holiday.