When the Finish Line Seems So Close—And So Far. Chapter 14; Coco’s Journey

By Larry Puls @larrypulsauthor

Running for Cancer, Remission

Five treatments down and one to go. She could almost taste it. Coco recalled every time the nurse had hooked up that catheter attached to her belly. It was never pleasant. But it was never miserable. It was just an investment—in life. A temporary suffering for a hopeful future. And hope was important to her.

She pulled the car out of her garage and drove to meet her doctor. The azaleas were in bloom and the dogwoods were sprinkling the yards. Spring had arrived. A new beginning—for the world—but was it for her? It was just two days before her last set of treatments. What did the future hold?

“Good morning Dr. Michaels.”

“Good morning Coco. It’s great to see you. I hope you are feeling well.”

“Other than some fatigue and a touch of numbness in my fingertips, it is all good. And I’m hoping you are going to tell me the same?” she said with her eyebrows going up.

“Your numbers look great. And you are coming up on the last treatment. After this, I will get some scans, see what your cancer blood test is, and then we will see… But I am very optimistic.”

She studied his eyes. It was important to see if there was truth emanating from them. Or were those just hollow words? 

Thinking back on the last six months, she remembered what a journey it had been. There had been the surgery, the recovery, the fear, the tears, the acceptance, the trepidation, the chemotherapy, all the blood draws, the scans, and probably some events that she had forgotten—either by necessity or by “chemobrain”. It was the long and winding road. 

And somehow as she pondered it all, the finish line seemed so close. She could almost reach out and touch it. 

But then she remembered she was here to discuss her last chemo. There would be some aggravating pain one last time. Bearable, but not fun. And then there would be a scan, a blood draw, and a waiting period to hear the results. All of a sudden, the finish seemed so far away. And what would be there at that finish line? Would there be a sign that said, “the end”? Or would the sign say, “it’s just a break”? Or worse? He might say more treatment was needed. She wondered if she would end up like Marcia who she had just had lunch with last week. Would her cancer give up the fight, or would it fight back? Who would win? Maybe this wasn’t a finish line. Maybe it was just a vacation. But what she was hoping for (with all her soul) was that this was the end. And it would afford her the opportunity to recover and grow hair and get back into life and think and celebrate.

She was glad to be here though, at this place and time, near the end of the marathon. Thinking back through this time, she had lived a lot and learned a lot—and she married off her daughter. She smiled. It had not been an awful time. In some ways it had been a glorious time. Perhaps the wedding had had more meaning now that she had been through this. The precious gift of marriage was even more precious now. And reflecting on her own husband, and the words that Marcia had said over lunch, she wanted to savor the time alone with Mike—and with her family and friends. This malignant event had stretched her and taught her well.

Maybe the cancer had been a blessing. When she analyzed it all, she concluded that It was the tough trials of life that grew her, not the easy ones. That principle was now cemented in her brain. She had always known it superficially, but now she really knew it deeply. Whatever was waiting out there at the “finish line” would be good, whether or not it was good. Because it would test her will and test her faith. It would teach her some new piece of something she didn’t yet know. 

As Dr. Michaels listened to her breath with his stethoscope, she prayed and thanked the Lord for preserving her long enough to meditate over such a moment as this. 

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