Stage IV NED 10 Years

Annabelle41415 (Kim) mentioned on another thread that I should post an update.  I visit the page here on occassion and read but rarely post.  It has been many years since I have posted.

Click on my name to see my entire story bue the headlines are as follows:

11/10/2008: Diagnosed Stage IV with 5 liver mets

11/24/2008: Started FOLFOX

02/20/2009: Colon resection, liver resection, HAI pump implanted

03/15/2009 through 11/02/2009: systemic chemo treatments (stopped Oxi on treatment #7 due to anaphylactic shock, continued 5FU only as well as FUDR monthly via my HAI port).

02/20/2019:  Celebrated my official 10 year NED

Last October 2018 I finally had my HAI pump removed.  It had been in my abdomen for over almost 10 years, only 8 months of which I actually was utilizing it for treatments.  

I waited so long to have my HAI pump removed because in some way I felt I was tempting fate.  Silly, I know, but I felt like the pump had saved my life (along with my amazing oncologist and surgeons at Memorial Sloan Kettering) and I just had no rush to remove it.  

When I was diagnosed my kids were newborn, 3 yrs and 5 yrs.  In two weeks I will watch my oldest head off to his Sophomore year in high school, my middle head to 8th grade and my baby girl who saved my life will be starting 5th grade (but taking Advanced 6th Grade Math!).  I have been blessed in many ways, obviously, but the biggest blessing in my life has been the love and support of my husband who lifted me up, literally and figuratively, during the darkest times of my illness. It was only upon my reaching 10 years remission that we actually told my children about my cancer experience.  I had not wanted to worry them when they were little and I was able to hide my illness from them (although they were so young at the time it was relatively easy to do so).

When I was walking the hospital floor the day after my 2009 surgery I was in excruciating pain, dragging an IV pole behind me but determined to walk as long as I could.  I remember seeing all the tiles and noticed that there was a thin joint line betweeen each.  As I tried to walk down that hospital corridor it seemed like every step I took over one of those lines was a small victory.  When I looked behind at where I had been I could see that the floor appeared seemless and that the joint lines invisible.  All I could see was a solid floor.  I thought to myself then, one day I will look back at my cancer journey and each of the blood draws, chemo infusions, procedures, surgeries, all those lines between the tiles will fade away and my time will become seamless, with only the memory of coming through, but not the details.  And in fact, that's how I do feel now.  I don't think of cancer on a daily basis, I think about my future, I plan for tomorrows.  I suffer no residual effects from my treatments and I even wore a bikini top this past summer, no longer concerned with the huge up/down scar on my mid-section.

I hope I have given someone hope with my post.  I always looked for that myself all those years ago when I visited this forum.

Peace, 

Amy