Health and Fitness : Laugh With Kathy - The Finish Line

Kathy and her chemo nursing team on the last day of chemo. *In recognition of October being Breast Cancer Awareness month, Dean and Val have asked me to share some stories from my book Laugh With Kathy, Finding humor in the journey through breast cancer. Each week day during October, I will post an excerpt from my book on Vinton Today. Our hope it that these articles will give you a glimpse into what it takes to beat breast cancer. Proceeds from books sold in October on Amazon and from my website will benefit the Survivors of Benton County. Please note that I was diagnosed with breast cancer four years ago, had two years of treatment and I am now living cancer free. www.laughwithkathy.com Saturday, January 18, 2014: Years ago, my middle son, Steven, participated in a track meet at his high school and ran the long-distance (five-thousand-meter) event. I sat in the stands with the other parents and watched the race and cheered the runners. As dozens of runners passed him, I watched Steven continue at his own pace, seemingly in his own world. The fastest runners completed the race, followed by most of the other runners, and yet Steven and a few runners continued to run. It was difficult to watch as a parent. I wondered if he felt bad for being near the back of the pack, and my heart ached for him. But slowly, the crowd began to clap and to cheer on the final dozen runners. And Steven started picking up speed. The crowd clapped louder, and he ran faster. He passed one runner after another, and the crowd was roaring as he crossed the finish line. I had tears in my eyes. And Steven? Steven was oblivious. He didn't hear the clapping or notice that he was passing other runners. It turns out that he wasn't running for anyone else but simply for the joy of running. And crossing the finish line was simply the end of the run. Ringing the bell at the end of chemo therapy I have carried this memory in my heart for over ten years. Sometimes the finish line is just a moment in the journey. Yesterday was like that for me. It was the thirtieth, and last, infusion for me, but it was just one moment in a long journey. I had planned my last treatment to fall on a Friday so that Gene could be with me. I wasn't sure how I would feel as I completed treatment. I knew I would be happy to have reached the end, but I wondered if I would also be a bit sad as I said good-bye to my nursing staff. Gene arrived just as I was being unhooked from my IV, and I was so glad he could share in this moment. Everything is better when he is at my side. The nurses gathered and played "Pomp and Circumstance"� on their kazoos and blew bubbles as they rang their bells. It is silly, but it is a celebration. Gene took our picture, and I went and rang the bell loudly. I was doing fine until the nurses each hugged me and whispered words of encouragement. And then tears came to my eyes. Patients and staff were clapping, but I could hardly hear them. How could I possibly thank them for taking care of me and saving my life? In the end, all I could do was whisper, "Thank you."� I had reached the finish line. www.laughwithkathy.com