As it turns out, it’s a celebration!

Thanks for your comments of support on my last post.  I didn’t expect this to be an ADA thing, but I suppose you’re right.  The Americans with Disabilities Act covers more than wheelchair ramps and voting machines, and it’s good to remember that.  There’s so much to learn, in this new post-cancer haze that I’m in.

Post-cancer.  That sounds so good, doesn’t it?  In a weird sort of way?

Last October, WonderDaddy did something amazing.  He made reservations for us and our MOMS Club friends at a fantastic place this summer.  It was the kind of thing that we’ve never even done for ourselves, but he wanted to create something special for me to look forward to, as I lay in bed, sick from the chemo, and growing weary of the side effects

He made these plans, and we decided that (time to look away, Mom) it would either be a grand celebration of our victory over cancer … or a goodbye party. 

For, really, not too many people fight IBC and are declared disease-free for any length of time.  Most of us, I admitted tonight as I twittered with Susan Reynolds, do become metastatic, and it’s just something that we have to live with.  I’m learning to live with the possibility.  I’m learning to push through it and enjoy each day, while working to push my own projects forward a bit each day too, and to reach out to others as you’ve all reached out to me.  I’m still learning, and I am just now learning that there is so much still unresolved, in this new post-cancer world.

There are even things yet to write about.  Things I didn’t get to tell you yet, like how I’m learning to live with my new body.  How I take a magic pill every morning that will ward off the cancer for the next five years.  How it will put me into menopause (again).  Or not.  How the children at preschool now know that my lymphedema sleeve is nothing to fear; it just helps my arm feel better.  How when my 15 month old lifted up my sleeve today to peer at the elastic around the top, and fiddle with it, it hit me like a brick.  How I then recovered, helped him smile at the strangeness, and turned it into a big cuddle.  How despite it all, I am still grateful for every day.  Every day is a day I would never have had if I were hit by a bus on June 16, instead of cancer.

So yes, as it turns out, the party will be a celebration. 

We’ll have a celebration online too.  I haven’t figured out what, exactly, but June 16 will be a PARTY over here on Toddler Planet.

12 Responses to As it turns out, it’s a celebration!

  1. “Post-cancer.”

    Definitely worth celebrating. Definitely!!

    And you can bet your boots (and your lymphedema sleeve) I’ll be here on June 16. With a big ol’ bottle of champagne in hand.

    Because you did it, Susan, and you’re our hero.

    xo CGF

  2. That’s so cool🙂 I’m so glad you’re celebrating recovery. So are the rest of Team WhyMommy🙂

  3. Kelley Eidem says:

    The best to you and CELEBRATE!

    I cured my stage 4 cancer in two weeks, nearly 10 years ago. It’s my mission to share how I did it as much as I can.

    Kelley Eidem

  4. Suzanne says:

    It’s all about atttitude. I know I am metastatic, and I don’t ahve the best odds. However, I am going to do whatever I need to do to keep it away and live. I am going to live for myself, my husband and my boys. I’m not going to let IBC control my life. Please email me!

  5. momma knows says:

    Yay, for celebrating!

  6. I’m RSVPing for your online party. I’ll be there! Congrats again.

  7. “For, really, not too many people fight IBC and are declared disease-free for any length of time. Most of us, I admitted tonight as I twittered with Susan Reynolds, do become metastatic, and it’s just something that we have to live with. ”

    Sorry, I am just obsessing on this. You said clean lines. Clean lines!! I thought that meant that it wouldn’t come back!? I thought that meant that you wouldn’t have to go through any of this ever again.

    I am not being flippant, I am actually freaking out here. I guess I really really don’t understand all this. I just want you to be better. I consider you a friend.

  8. Sarah S. says:

    A celebration. That sounds so fun. It is good to have something to look forward to. Good for you Wonderdaddy!
    You have a good one there Susan🙂

  9. […] sorry that my last post worried you.  I try not to be sad here too often, but I guess a little explanation is in order.  […]

  10. liz says:

    June 16 will be a wonderful day all around (our baby girl is being delivered that very same day)!

    “cancer-free”…in the words of Winnie-the-Pooh, is the way to be. YAY!

  11. Imstell says:

    “Every day is a day I would never have had if I were hit by a bus on June 16, instead of cancer.”

    I have tried to explain it to people so many times but have never summed it up so perfectly. I hope you fully enjoy the well earned celebration.

  12. JoC says:

    I am still reading and remain in awe of your ability to explain these things so well. I probably comment less often than before. Just wanted you to know, those of us just visiting are still cheering you on loud and clear. So glad that party on June 16th will be a celebration!

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