No, you can’t sir!

Last Friday's final session was a happy ending to a celebratory week, one that welcomed my youngest brother, Brian, to town for a short visit before returning Mom back to Kansas just after the ringing of the bell at Texas Oncology, which was the best two-minute party I've ever had.   Complete with many radiant faces, confetti-throwing and congratulations all around, it was the perfect culmination of Mom's time here in Austin, caring for her eldest daughter, and also the commencement of a new chapter for her, and for our family: returning to our hometown and into her own, new nest, in a retirement community just a few miles from the house we've called home since 1983, when we moved as a family of eight, from Kearney, Nebraska to Clay Center, Kansas.  My siblings are faced with the lion's share of work required to clear the house and prepare it for sale, and I'm sorry I won't be able to be there to help, also a little sad I won't be able to see it one last...

Today's infusion was as easy as ever.  As I sat and pondered the last several months of treatments, I felt almost sad that they are coming to an end.  Almost!  The wonderful people, the comfortable chairs, the cozy atmosphere...I truly will miss Texas Oncology.  (I can remedy that by volunteering some time to help provide aid to others, so I'm shedding no tears.)  And I'm already planning out my final session outfit to ring the bell in, the first and final time, to celebrate the end of chemotherapy and ultimately, in conquering cancer.  Mom and Brian will be present, along with a few friends for the 2-minute party, and even lovely Marisol, the amazing scheduler for Dr. Patt, said she wants to come out of her cubical to witness the moment.  Just two more weeks! An ironic reunion occurred today while in treatment.  A woman I knew from my days at BodyBusiness, one whom when she was 57 y.o, decided she wanted to give triathlon a go, took the course I ...