Many months and many milestones
For some reason, in a quiet moment last night, I was remembering my return home after mastectomy surgery in Vancouver. I don't know why it popped into my head, maybe because Mountain Dad was himself in Vancouver yesterday and although I wasn't going to be meeting him at the airport, I was imagining airport reunions.
I was in Vancouver for two weeks for my mastectomy and breast reconstruction surgery. Mum and Dad were with me, looking after me for that time so that Shea could retain some semblance of normality for the kids back in Whitehorse. Before I'd left, he and I had said a symbolic but slightly awkward goodbye to my cancer-breast. That same sense of awkwardness peeped into our reunion when I returned home after surgery. Getting off the plane in Whitehorse it was close to midnight on a frosty mid-winter evening. Shea was there, uncharacteristically on time and waiting to greet us. I was recently released from my bindings of dressings that had held me together for the last ten days or so. I felt tender and shy. It felt like we were meeting each other again after a long time apart. He was gentle and warm.
I remember revealing the new lady to him and feeling nervous, self-conscious and so vulnerable as he unwrapped me. I'm not sure I thought too deeply about it at the time but muse upon those feelings now. Over a year later.
Friends, I think we're moving beyond this cancer stuff. Since I last wrote we've passed a few momentous milestones.
I completed my final dose of Chemotherapy (in addition to the eight rounds of hard core chemo I had another milder form for a year). Saying farewell to the nurses in the chemo suite was surprisingly emotional; I choked up as I left the hospital.
I was in Vancouver for two weeks for my mastectomy and breast reconstruction surgery. Mum and Dad were with me, looking after me for that time so that Shea could retain some semblance of normality for the kids back in Whitehorse. Before I'd left, he and I had said a symbolic but slightly awkward goodbye to my cancer-breast. That same sense of awkwardness peeped into our reunion when I returned home after surgery. Getting off the plane in Whitehorse it was close to midnight on a frosty mid-winter evening. Shea was there, uncharacteristically on time and waiting to greet us. I was recently released from my bindings of dressings that had held me together for the last ten days or so. I felt tender and shy. It felt like we were meeting each other again after a long time apart. He was gentle and warm.
I remember revealing the new lady to him and feeling nervous, self-conscious and so vulnerable as he unwrapped me. I'm not sure I thought too deeply about it at the time but muse upon those feelings now. Over a year later.
Friends, I think we're moving beyond this cancer stuff. Since I last wrote we've passed a few momentous milestones.
I completed my final dose of Chemotherapy (in addition to the eight rounds of hard core chemo I had another milder form for a year). Saying farewell to the nurses in the chemo suite was surprisingly emotional; I choked up as I left the hospital.
Shea and I celebrated by going for a ski together (which rarely happens) and popping some bubbly atop a mountain and getting a tad tipsy before collecting the kids from school.
I turned 40! And celebrated quietly with the Mountain Dad and Kids...
I had my port-a-acth out. The amazing device that allowed nurses to connect me to chemo simply and quickly. I was appreciative of that fact, especially as I sat next to my friend in the chemo suite and watched as, time and time again, they struggled to find a vein in her hand. Mine was as simple as 1-2-3, but I found it unsightly and uncomfortable. Having it out is something I've been looking forward to for over a year!
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More bubbly was called for to celebrate the occasion...
My baby turned 8...
...and started leaving me notes for when I get home after work that look like this
(excuse photo quality, it's an old phone camera)...
And we've been out adventuring lots, which isn't quite milestone-worthy but still feels good. It's nice to have our time dictated by our whims rather than medical appointments.
Haines Pass Ski trip
Taking the skidoo down Ashihik Road. There wasn't enough snow to skidoo. Lots of mud, though.
Instead of ski-dooing into a cabin as planned, we camped in the wall tent on a sunny bluff and hung out for a couple of days.
We spent two weeks on the Stikhine River with two other families.
We were only home a few days before heading off again to motor boat on Atlin Lake...
So friends, it feels a lot has happened these last few months and I've been wanting to write and tell you all about it but I guess, we've just been so busy. All in all, it's been a momentous few months.
And we're feeling good!
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