Two Years Out
This past Sunday marked two years since my last day of treatment. Two whole years! It's so long, but it's so short. I remember everything, but everything's a blur. Early in my treatment, my mother, a breast cancer survivor herself, promised me that the day would come when I would no longer spend every waking moment thinking about cancer. At the time, it was very hard to imagine that day. But she was right - I can go for weeks now without giving it a thought. Life does indeed move on, and the enormous mental, emotional, physical, and logistical space that my treatment took up has quickly refilled with my family, my career, and my interests. But October will always be my own personal Breast Cancer Awareness Month, even if it wasn't for the rest of the world. The change in the air that happens in LA this month, the chill in the mornings and the low slant of the setting sun in the evenings, will always bring back memories of the end of my treatment. I wept off and ...