We are out of here.
Time to go home and sleep it off.
B cycle in a few weeks and then sayonara chemo.
Coming home, however, was rough. Not physically, but emotionally. My father always called or I called him at the end of a chemo. I still talk to him all the time, and I hear his voice in my head, see his face in my mind, and feel his presence in my heart, but I want to reach and and touch him, tell him I love him, that I’ll be OK, and that I miss him terribly.