I received the booster infusion on Thursday. I've only got one more "set" of these to go. The end is in sight. I'm feeling great. The most annoying side effect is an unpleasant metallic taste in my mouth a few days after each infusion. It seems to be more pronounced with each infusion.

I had an opportunity to give a "testimonial" at church on Sunday about how I believe my mindset and my faith in God have helped me deal with the recurrence and (I believe) helped me go into remission so swiftly. I do have quite a lot to say about a lot of things. I started writing a book after the first diagnosis and one of these days I'll get around to finishing it. It's basically an autobiography with some life lessons/philosophy added in. Some people might be quaking in their boots at the thought of me writing an autobiography (some juicy stuff - go figure). While it will be an honest look at events from my perspective, it wouldn't be done in the spirit of "I'm going to screw you because you screwed me." Really. I've been able to analyze and take responsibility for my own contributions to various situations. I don't have an axe to grind with anyone (anymore) ;-) I've experienced the truth that forgiveness of self and others liberates you from the chains of the past. I realized I didn't want to be stuck in the rut of living in the residual circumstances of past actions and decisions. My anger or resentment meant nothing to the person(s) targeted by my emotions. He/she/they could care less so the only person being harmed by the anger was the one holding on to it: me. I've learned how to let it go. Who I am NOW is what matters and how I choose to live the rest of my life. In most respects I don't even feel like the same person I was five or six years ago. Heck, I'm not the same person I was 10 or 20 years ago. In my mind, that's a good thing. I was a wimp. Dealing with a potentially fatal disease teaches you many things and shines a new perspective on what it means to live and what it means to love.

I saw Dr. Lloyd last Thursday. My parents went with me so that we could get the "official" report on the PET/CT scan. He again said that the report showed no cancer activity at all and that I was completely clear. As I expected, he wants me to finish up the full six treatments so after seeing him I had the 5th infusion last Thursday. After the chemo is finished, he will want me to receive Herceptin  "indefinitely". Herceptin is not considered a chemotherapy drug but is still given intravenously every three weeks. I'm hoping that someday another delivery system will be developed (pill or shot). Anyway, I am feeling awesome and am grateful to be in remission.

I attended a "Cancer Wellness" retreat this past weekend. I was really looking forward to three days of rest, relaxation, and time to myself. I was not disappointed. My household can be somewhat chaotic and, with three school age kids, it's the very rare moment that I'm home alone and everything is quiet. There were 21 of us on retreat: 20 women and 1 man. Most women were in their 40s and 50s. I think the majority had had breast cancer. Many of the women were single mothers. We could all relate to each other's stories. We all came from different places and had different experiences prior to diagnosis but going through the cancer experience forges bonds that are difficult to articulate. Some of us were still in treatment, some had been out for a few years. Some wore wigs, some wore hats, some had hair. I found myself in a different emotional place than most of them. There was a lot of anger expressed, a lot of brokenness, a lot of grief, even for those who had finished treatment years ago. Cancer can really suck the joy out of someone's life. I found myself acting in the role of cheerleader or guide, saying "You can get past this, you don't have to go through life fearful all the time." Maybe that was my purpose in being there, aside from what I wanted to get out of the weekend for myself. One thing that I observed is that most people dealing with cancer try to be so strong in front of family and friends. They don't want pity or sympathy. The people closest to them haven't had this experience, though, and really can't understand what it's like so the patient holds the feelings inside which ferment and turn to anger and resentment. Weekends like this are good to offer a place to vent to people who know exactly what you're feeling. Getting it out is cleansing. Rehashing it and marinating in it just perpetuates it, in my mind, but it was good to see so many people able to release so much "stuff." I've been through my own journey during the past four years and found a book by Louise Hay, "You Can Heal Your Life" to be particularly helpful in helping me release all the garbage I've held on to. The weekend for me was not a time to vent but a time to be quiet and a time to connect to God without worrying about interruptions. It was a great weekend.

I was supposed to go to the infusion center last Friday for a Procrit shot but I forgot. I drove in first thing this morning and while I was there, ended up seeing Dr. Lloyd. He asked if he had called me with a report from my PET/CT scan. I said, "Yes, you did. Thank you." He said, "It was a VERY good report, Cheryl. All the areas that showed active cancer on your last scan are now inactive." I asked, "Does that mean that now I can technically say I'm in remission?" He said, "Yes." I told him, "I never expected anything less." He laughed and said, "I like your confidence."

I shed a few tears of gratitude in the car as I left the medical center. Not a bad way to start the week. Of course, he didn't say, "Let's forget the two other infusions I had planned for you."  I have one scheduled this Thursday.

I've held unwavering faith that this would come to pass. Is it a miracle? All of life is a miracle. I bless everything and everyone that has come into my life. Life is too short to waste energy thinking negative things about people or circumstances. Like attracts like. Negative energy creates more of itself. Positive energy creates more of itself. Love creates love. We are all connected. The things that irritate me or anger me in other people are the things I turn a blind eye to in myself. Life is a mirror. I don't know that I'd make all the same choices (in fact, I'm sure of a few instances where I definitely would choose differently) but I embrace it all and appreciate the place I am in right now. 

Phone message left yesterday at 2:29 pm

"Hi Cheryl. Dr. Lloyd calling. You had a very good report on your PET/CT scan so we'll discuss it at the time of your next visit but it was very favorable with marked improvement in all aspects of the cancer. So, congratulations on what's a very good report. Bye, bye."

Curiously, I didn't experience a "down day" after the last big infusion. Albert and I had a gig on Saturday night, March 3. I took a short nap late that afternoon but, otherwise, was fine. I was able to do my regular Sunday stuff. I received the Gemzar booster last Thursday, the 8th. No problems with that. Dr. Lloyd wants a PET scan now so I'll be doing that tomorrow. He has high expectations that things will be much improved over the scan I had in November. Early on in the treatment I was anxious to know of improvements. I wanted proof that things were "working". It's odd but now I'm not on pins and needles to know the results. I KNOW that things are better, I can feel the difference and mentally, I've come into a place where I believe in the truth of my healing.

In other news, the band is rehearsing, it's going very well. We've got some dates scheduled. I was able to squeeze in a little more recording time this weekend. We're anxiously awaiting news from UCSD as to whether Sara was accepted on not. We should hear within the next couple of weeks. She's already been accepted at UCR.