HOPE

Today is the last of it. The last time she will sit in that chair and have toxins injected into her. The last time she will have to dread the nasty side effects. The last day to mark off the calendar to completion. It isn't over. There is still radiation, a few more surgeries, continued blood work, and check ups with her oncologist. There won't be any scans to make sure the cancer is gone as each scan increases her risk of recurrence by 0.5-1% so we just have to go off of symptoms. The assumption is that she is in the clear. Not the easiest assumption to make. But HOPEfully my mom will regain the feeling in her feet, hands, and face. HOPEfully she won't have to spend Sundays on the couch because she isn't feeling well. HOPEfully she regains her strength. HOPEfully she will regain a healthy glow and the sallowness in her cheeks will disappear. HOPEfully she will be able to unpause her life. HOPEfully.