When I met with my oncologist in December 2013, I asked whether I'd see December 2014. She promised me December 2014 but wouldn't promise me anything after that. I was thirty-nine with a three year old and a baby two days shy of five months and advanced stage breast cancer. The thought of all I might miss shattered me.
The days that followed were so difficult it still catches my breath. I am actually not sure how we pushed through. God was it hard and God am I tired. But it seems like we are on the other side of something. Not the totally horrifying statistics, but maybe the momentum. Last week both of my tests were clear. This respite will only last three months, but three months takes me to November. December 2015 is in my sights.
We walk Miles to his first day of kindergarten tomorrow morning. Literally nothing could make me prouder.
