When I was younger, one of my favourite things to do during summer vacation was to go swimming in the pool of our apartment complex.
There is something so magical and freeing about water, whether it's the weightlessness as you float and stare up at the sky, or the otherworldliness you experience when swimming under water. It almost feels like space.
I remember competing with my sister and cousins. We used to race each other to see who could swim fastest, and sometimes we'd try to see who could stay under water the longest.
Do you remember that feeling? When you were underwater, holding your breath until you'd start to feel a pressing need to resurface?
Imagine that sensation getting more intense, and imagine that instead of a pool, you actually fell through a frozen lake and were swimming as hard as you could, looking for an opening so that you could resurface and catch your breath again.
That's what the last 8 months have been like, until today.
Today, I resurfaced. I found an opening in that metaphorical frozen lake. It happened to be in my oncologist's office, as she announced that my post-chemo scans and bloodwork are all clear!
As she uttered those words, I finally got to experience the much needed and gratifying gulp of sweet, sweet oxygen filling my lungs.
Being who I am, I of course asked her if I could give her a hug. She said yes, and so I did. As I took that gulp of oxygen in the arms of the person that quite literally saved my life, I broke into tears. All I could muster up to say to her in that moment was a blubbering "Thank you."
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
I could never say it enough!
To my oncologist: Thank you for saving my life.
To my husband: Thank you for doing everything in your power to create an environment that allowed me to focus on my physical and mental health.
To my children: Thank you for giving me the fuel and motivation to keep swimming as hard as I could!
To my friends and family: Thank you for your prayers, good vibes, and everything in between!
With gratitude,
Alvina