That should be it.

I had my portacath out this morning which, as far as I'm concerned, signals the end of my treatment. It's been a hectic and stressful 11 months and I am so pleased to be free of the whole slicing, zapping and poisoning process.

I had the port out with just a local anaesthetic which took a bit of negotiation. I can't say it was a pleasant thing to do on a sunny morning (rather more gristly and noisy than I had expected) but it was great to be able to get out of theatre, have a cuppa and go home without the need for drips or any other fuss. And no sedation hangover, which is also worth being fully aware through the op.

So, barring anything I can't control, I'm done. I'm booked for a four day Otis break then I'll see my oncologist next Monday and sign him off too. I've decided to go 'commando' and cut them all loose. No more tests or appointments until something goes wrong. It may, it may not. We will see. I'll have to be mindful of my bone density because of the Letrazol, but I've got bones like a Clydesdale horse so I'm not getting myself wound up about that at the moment--vitamin D, calcium and exercise will have to be enough for now.

Thanks for all the support. I feel so far away from where I was during the chemo--even though its only been a couple of months that part of my life is fading into history. Which is how it should be. Marg.