I'm done! A bit over-done, even...

I completed my final radiation treatment today -- hurray! I'd intended to make a little ceremony out of tossing my hospital robe, the one that's been saved for me every day in a bag with my name on it at my request, but the housekeeping staff had already put it in the laundry yesterday. I left the hospital and stood on the steps a moment, not sure whether I wanted to jump up and down or have a little cry. So I took myself to the Elephant & Castle and had lunch, including a decadent brownie dessert they make, and told the waiter, who has served me numerous times, that I'd just finished seven months of cancer treatment and was giving myself a treat. (Don't know what excuse I'll use next time I indulge myself there...) He very kindly didn't charge me for the dessert and sent me off with best wishes.

My skin burns will get a little worse before they get better, but the saline compresses seem to be working well. I'll have to make them and use them for the next couple of weeks -- just boiled saltwater and a facecloth.

What's the next step? I'll have a CT scan of my whole trunk on Friday and a bone scan next Tuesday. I get the results on the 17th. Worst-case scenario: the cancer has spread to my liver or lungs. Confusing scenario: I still have spots in my ribs and they still don't know what they are, OR there are no spots on my ribs and maybe they were cancer and were banished by the chemo and radiation. Or not.

Soon I should be having an MRI of the parts of my spine they can see and a visit with Dr. Second.

Today my radiation oncologist agreed with a metaphor that I came up with: if I don't have bone metastasis (but will we ever know?), then what I have is a "regional recurrence" -- regional meaning not in the primary site but in the lymph nodes near it. So, the horse has left the barn, but it's standing quite near the door. It could lie down and go to sleep for a time; it could lie down and die (not likely); or it could go galloping away (which means I'm toast). Until I've had my tests, she'll make no comment on whether I should sell my house, retire, return to work, start spending my savings, plan for the future.

I feel frustrated and don't know how to proceed. In eight months I've gone from being told I had metastatic breast cancer to being told I might not, or at least not really; I've gone from stumbling around for months in shrieking pain with an undiagnosed broken back to walking with some ease. I'm learning to live with permanent numbness and nerve damage to my arm and breast.

We'll see what the scans tell me.

Pollyanna moments:

• I've signed up to to walk in the Terry Fox Walk/Run in the Beaches on Sunday, September 13. I hope I can manage 5K. Right at the moment walking hurts the least; standing around the house or cooking or washing dishes makes my shoulder burn, and working at a desk makes it REALLY burn. If you'd like to donate to my efforts, here's the link.
• I made myself an omelette this morning using half a dozen organic cherry tomatoes I grew in a container -- first time I've grown tomatoes! They were tasty.