Done.

Who would have thought that seeing the nurses take down the chemo bag for one last time, would be such an overwhelming experience.  As the nurse disconnected him and flushed his lines, I had to sit down.  I think I took my first long, deep breath since this all started.

Round six is done.  We have finished.  It’s over.... For now.

We farewelled the nurses.  We were embraced in hugs from the volunteers, the social worker and one of his Oncologists.  We held back tears as we were handed gifts for Dexter and Koko from people who have impacted on our lives more then they will know.  We walked away from C2West – West wing, level 2, Children’s ward – saying we hope to never see them again and having the sentiment returned.

We sat in the car and held each other.

For the last seven months, our lives have not been ours.  We haven’t been able to plan anything and we haven’t been able to do anything.  

Every new month saw our calendar get covered with appointments and tests and chemo dates.  Every month we packed up our stuff and moved into our home away from home.  Every month we saw the faces of the families, each going through different stages.  The extremes of the long haul families who have no choice but to make the ward their home, with no timeframe for discharge, no timeframe for recovery, just no timeframe – to the new families who thought their child was tired, and less than 24 hours later find themselvesd sitting in the Children’s Oncology ward trying desperately to get their head around the diagnosis and the uncertain prospect of what the future holds.

At times I had no idea how we would get through this – and in reality – we were one of the lucky families.  Our time on the ward is done.  Four rounds of chemo, surgery, two rounds of chemo.  Done.  Of course we will be having regular checkups, blood tests and CT scans, but for now, our journey is over.  Dexter is technically cancer free.  Things should be normal.

But how do you return to ‘normal’ after this?  How can you look at things the same?  How do you not become a cynical, cranky individual, always wondering ‘why us’?  How do you not just give in to the emotions – the ones where all you want to do is cry and the ones where all you want to do is hit something, really hit it hard and not stop?

I don’t know how we will return to ‘normal’ – I honestly don’t think there is such a state for our family!  But whatever ‘normal’ is, I know we are starting to get back there.  We are relaxing more, we are socialising more – we have more to talk about then cancer terms!  We have a new baby to look forward to, and, without jinxing ourselves, we will be hospital free when she comes along!

At the start of May this year, our main concerns were pushing through Dexter’s therapies, trying to give him the opportunity to achieve everything he is capable of achieving.  A week after his first birthday, our priorities changed and it became about saving his life once again.  Well thankfully, once again, his stubborn streak has shone through and we can return to pushing him to be the best he can be.

It’s been a hard, long, exhausting, confusing, emotional and frustrating seven months.  We got through it all because of the strength of our relationship.  But the strength of that wouldn’t have been possible if it wasn’t for so many other factors.  The people who dropped everything to be there and support us along the way.  The people who were hurting just as much as we have been, but who stood by and held us up regardless.  The sleepless nights that they have endured; the stress they felt waiting for updates – all done silently so as to not add extra pressure on us.  It’s those people who enabled us to be there for each other.  In their own way, they understood and my hope is that they know just how important they are to us and that we would not have gotten through this without them.

Our silver lining?  We have amazing family and friends and one cheeky, stubborn little man who has shown us all that we can do this!