Letting Out A Breath

I’ve been holding my breath for what seems like a lifetime.  Moments of being so very afraid, but not letting myself think about it.  So scared sometimes.  When something like this happens to you you fight that all the time.  I am, as all who know me would probably attest to, a positive person.  I think positively, I act positively, I smile all the damn time.  It’s who I am.  I have been that person through this process so far and will continue to be I would imagine.  But there have been times… thinking what might happen, what could happen.  Dark moments.  I didn’t let them get the best of me and always managed to push them back and away… but there has been a sort of hum inside.  A holding of my breath.

With each treatment round I’ve kept the attitude, this is killing it, this is curing me.  I kept thinking that, even in the beginning when I was most sick… and subsequently, every time after another round of chemo when I didn’t feel good or couldn’t go anywhere because I was neutropenic.  I kept saying… this sucks now, but it’s killing it, it’s taking care of me.

And you know what?  Today I got the best news of my life…. right up there with when my Mom got past her bought with breast cancer and when Karen told me she loved me for the first and all the times after, and when we sat on that beach in Hawaii making a commitment to each other, and when Mary told us she was pregnant, and when I presided over Mary and Martin’s wedding.  Those, some of the very best moments of my life, were joined by the news today that the molecular scan of the bone marrow biopsy I had two weeks ago, results just back, showed no abnormality.  None.  There was no sign of leukemia in my marrow, in my chromosomes, in me.  It was totally clear.

I just spent the last half an hour crying on and off, and will probably be the rest of the day.  I called Karen immediately (she’s traveling for work) and cried with her on the phone.  She thought, initially, something was wrong because I was crying so hard I could barely speak.  I called my Mom and I called my brother… same thing… crying so hard.  Crying out of happiness.  Crying, and finally… letting out a little breath.

Published by Tam

Wife. Dogs. Camera. Grandkids. Music. Words. Travel. Family. Friends. Beauty. Inspiration. Nature. Film. Bike. Life. Food. Wind. Trees. Chocolate. Peace. People. Clouds. Art. Ocean. Fall. Kindness. Joy. Hope.

4 thoughts on “Letting Out A Breath

  1. Did you hear it? We all gave a collective sigh of relief. I’m so very glad that your biopsy came back normal…Normal… what a great word!! I’m celebrating with you right now!! WOOO HHOOOOOO….

  2. That’s wonderful news, hippygirl! I’m so happy for you and yours. Like you, I sometimes get overtaken by those dark thoughts, but miracles still happen everyday. You’re the living proof. Congratulations.

    PEI. Canada

  3. Tam, thank you so much for sharing this moment with us. You are an amazing woman. I don’t think I could have done what you did with a smile on my face. You will always be an inspiration to me. Congratulations and may the coming year bring you good health and happiness. Love ya!

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