Yesterday morning I looked at three large pink pills that were in the palm of my hand – the last dose of my chemotherapy. I put them one by one in my mouth, swallowing them piece by piece while drinking tea with milk, sip by sip. I was very happy, but thought I would feel more joyful. What I felt yesterday and feel today is more relief than joy – and that’s ok. 

Perhaps my comparison to climbing to a mountain top is more accurate than I first thought. I’ve never before climbed a mountain where I’m utterly exhausted with a body full of blisters, sores and aching muscles. My ascent to this summit can probably be compared less with a hike where the journey is as rewarding as the end, but compared more with a long hard expedition where the endpoint is the ultimate purpose. When you have willingly or not tested the limits of your body and mind and when it’s finally over you are too tired to fully enjoy the moment of the goal. You are more relieved that it’s over than joyful about reaching the destination. There is no energy left to sit down and thoroughly enjoy the view. But when you’ve put your backpack down and rubbed your sore shoulders, removed your shoes and nasty socks and tended to your blisters, changed to dry warm clothes, found a nice comfortable warm spot to sit and drink your hot cocoa, eaten a nice filling meal, found a comfortable mattress and a soft duvet, you can finally rest. Then at breakfast the next morning you fully and finally enjoy the view. 

I have after ten incredibly long and emotionally and physically extremely tough months reached the point where I can fully begin to tend to my wounds. I don’t have to continue to feel that I’m gradually falling apart. From this day forward I know that the pain I have now, the soreness I feel now, and the fatigue I have now will day by day improve. I will shed a few more layers of skin on my fingers and feet just to get rid of the calluses. Under the tough skin there are no more sores, only smooth healed skin. I will have a couple more days with nose bleeds and sore mouth, but very soon I’ll fully enjoy normal flavors. I’ll have a few more days of resting more than usual on the couch, but shortly I’ll not feel the need to lay down after the exhausting process of boiling an egg.

I’m finally at the end of the hardest and toughest expedition of my life and I’m thoroughly looking forward to a glass or two – or three – of the celebratory champagne that James bought today.