Eleven

If you've followed me this far on my cancer journey, I thank you.

This will probably be my last post.

Today marks 11 years since my diagnosis.

My youngest will turn 11 in a few days.

Eleven years of struggles, Eleven years of surviving. 

Eleven years I’m grateful for and do not take for granted.

Over the past few months, I’ve been weaning off my chemo medication. I have taken it for the last 10 years. I’m done. No more prescriptions to refill every month. Oddly, I have new different side effects to figure out.

I saw my oncologist — whom I am incredibly grateful for — and he said, “Congratulations,” and released me from his care.

It all feels a little surreal. I’m not quite sure how I got here... or why. 

Survivor’s guilt is hard.

I didn’t acknowledge my 10-year anniversary. 

The day just quietly slipped by. I had too much going on.

2024 was a hard year—personally, within my family, and especially with the passing of my mom.

And 2025 has felt a bit like survival mode again. I’m trying to find joy and gratitude.

Abby is doing amazing in college. Kaden is going to be a senior. Alyssa moves on to middle school, and Gage leaves elementary school. It feels like I just blinked, and they all grew up.

Even though my job can be stressful, I truly love it. As I get ready to begin my seventh year, I feel fortunate that my co-workers have become some of my best friends. 

2025 is a work in progress. It’s becoming a year of reflection, new goals, and — hopefully — growth.

Thank you for your love and support all these years.

Much love,
Kim