Chemo Is Over Now What?
“Stay positive.”
“You’re going to be OK.”
“Chemo is over — that’s amazing.”
Everyone is so excited it’s over.
And I am too… I think.
But I can’t celebrate.
At least not really.
Of course I’m happy chemo is done.
But now what?
Wait and see… forever?
How do you enjoy the moment when the possibility of recurrence is sitting right there, quietly, in the background of everything?
Do I just power through and pretend?
Because I don’t feel like celebrating.
I want to go back to living the way I did before.
But I can’t.
Or maybe I shouldn’t.
But honestly… that’s what would feel most normal.
Everyone talks about what you’re supposed to do after something like this:
Change your lifestyle.
Eat better.
Exercise.
Think differently.
Become better.
I’ve always thought that too.
And I’ve always struggled to follow through.
So why would now be different?
Because I could die if I don’t?
But I could also die if I do everything right.
Imagine doing everything “right”… and it still comes back.
That would be a fun smack in the face.
But I still feel like I need to try.
I’ve been thinking about the idea that your thoughts shape your reality — the whole law of attraction idea.
That what you focus on expands.
And honestly… I think there’s some truth to that.
If you constantly think about something — good or bad — it does seem to grow.
So here I am.
Day 2 of trying to control something I’ve never really been able to control.
At first, I thought it was about my weight.
But I think it’s bigger than that.
It’s about trying to have some control over my life.
I’m 55.
And for the first time, I’m really aware that the future isn’t something I can assume.
Everyone keeps saying:
“You’ll be OK.”
Maybe I will be.
But right now, I’m somewhere in between:
Relief… and fear.
Gratitude… and uncertainty.
Wanting to move forward… and not knowing how.
Maybe this isn’t a moment to celebrate.
Maybe it’s a moment to sit in the in-between.
Chemo is over.
But this part — this uncertain, uncomfortable, honest part —
is just beginning.