So tomorrow is going to be an interesting day, one filled with equal amounts of joy and fear. Tomorrow, after 7 years of treatment, I will hopefully have my last chemo. It is hard to explain the joy of knowing that means that I will no longer have to consent to procedures that “may cause significant harm or death,” I will no longer have to worry about having fits as they stab and jab me in my spine, or about having biopsies every three months (although they will still happen from time to time). No more waiting with breath held for results, knowing that the possibility of the leukemia being back is always there but praying that no trace will be found. But with that joy comes the fear, fear that without the chemo, without the regular checks the darkness that lives in my blood will start to grow and multiply again. But the truth is there is nothing I can do about it except leave it all in God’s hands. There is a sadness too as I write this, because I know that dad and Fiona would be so happy that this day had come. In fact I can hear Fiona telling me that it is about time I stopped pretending there is something wrong with me. So tomorrow, I pull on my big girl pants one more time, I let them stick needles in my bones and my spine, I let them take the biopsies and give me the chemo, and then I lift my head high and walk out into a new future, one with less hospital visits and more possibilities than I ever could have imagined at the start of this journey. I do this, however, knowing that there is empty space beside me where love ones should be, that there are wounds which are still raw and hurting even now. But I also do so knowing that no matter what the future holds I will have you, the best friends and family anyone could ask for, walking beside me, supporting me and cheering me on wherever this path leads and you have no idea how much that means. Love and thanks as always xxx