the light(s) at the end of the tunnel

now that i'm on the home stretch, i feel as though i can finally see the light at the end of this tunnel. raytheon, i love you, but i cannot allow that light to be your blazing florescent bulbs back in the office! many young survivors i have met talk about how deflating it is to work so hard battling this disease for months only to... return to work?! hmmm. while i will happily return to work at the end of february, i'm focusing on other bright, sparkling lights at the end of this tunnel right now.

i'm snowed in again, camping out by dana farber for a couple of nights. i rode the elevator at the hospital this morning with another patient who came in for treatment on cross-country skis. wow. only the truly determined made it in past the foot of fresh snow today. i've happily spent my down time here planning several upcoming celebrations and purchased three plane tickets in the past 24 hours. i'm looking forward to a long weekend in new york next month celebrating this victory with my dearest college friends, a weekend in siesta key with my girlfriends from grad school, bachelorette parties and weddings for two of my best friends, among others... i've sure got a lot of living to do this year!

first, though, is a long-overdue vacation with peter. we spent much time contemplating what the perfect trip would be at the end of this journey. we weighed the limitations: 'no sunbathing' per my radiation oncologist and 'nothing out of the country' per my cleverly cautious husband, who wants to make sure we're near a comparable hospital in the event that something goes awry post-treatment. we settled on arizona, which will be pleasantly warm (but not a 'sunbathing'-type trip) and is home to my favorite place: sedona. while i lived in scottsdale for a bit when i worked for northrop grumman, peter has never been, and i'm excited to share a place that's so special to me with him.

as i was forewarned, radiation has succeeded in burning the heck out of my throat over the past few weeks. swallowing anything has become a challenge. my old pal lidocaine returned to save the day, numbing my throat enough to make it possible to drink and eat soup. i was cautioned that it will only get worse for the next two weeks, so i'm bracing myself to muscle through to the finish line by focusing on the light at the end of the tunnel... a few short weeks from now my throat will definitely be burning, but hopefully over a celebratory margarita in the shade with my husband. :)