Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): I had blood work done this morning to commemorate my one week post chemo treatment. Really, we just wanted to see how ~toxic~ I am and how my body is responding. My numbers are looking great. My white blood cell count is VERY low (my range was 1.3 and the standard range is 3.4 – 10.8) so please avoid me if you are sick, thinking about getting sick (lol), or are hanging out in large crowds for the next couple of days. Also, my oncologist said my breast tumor feels softer! Chemo is working!

TO THE LONG VERSION!

Happy one week post chemo treatment! Yay me! Today I finally feel more like myself. If I have been slow to reply to you, expect to hear from me soon. I am finally alive! Here is our official countdown:

3 red devil chemos to go.
15 chemo treatments (in total) left.
19 weeks to go!

Next Thursday afternoon (March 31) I will dance with the red devil again and repeat the cycle. There is little peace in knowing what is to come. It reminds me of the movie “Saw.” Like to get out of a shitty situation created by some horrific psychopath, I have to choose which terrible act is more worth doing: getting chemo or letting cancer take over my body. Cancer has further darkened my humor. Sorry friends.

I think I need some sort of countdown marker to bring with me to chemo. Kind of like the countdown to Santa Claus visiting. Everything is more fun with a countdown calendar. We also seriously need to start planning my last day of chemo party. I want to to give all the nurses a cute gift bag or something, kind of like when we were kids we would get gift bags to take home after someone’s birthday. It was like a weird reward for showing up and being someone’s friend. You get a bunch of free stuff for being happy for someone else. What kind of things would nurses want in a “A cancer patient finished chemo today!” gift bag??? Definitely a custom sticker. Candy? Bubbles? We need to brainstorm people!!!

Next week is a big week. I have my spine MRI on Wednesday, chemo on Thursday, and Friday I have my post-chemo shot in my stomach. Fun.

Oh.

Speaking of shots. I learned more about the putting my ovaries to sleep thing. So basically, this is my hormone blocker that I need to be on for at least five years and my oncologist wants me to start the shots now versus when I complete treatment. My breast cancer is estrogen positive, so that means it eats estrogen for breakfast. And lunch. And dinner. My doctor wants to stop the production of the hormone that fuels the tumor. There are studies that have indicated that starting hormone blockers during chemotherapy can potentially help in protecting the ovaries, so she wants me to do it now versus three months from now when I finish chemo. It also acts as a contraceptive since I am not able to be on other forms like the pill at this time. I learned there are two ways the shot can be delivered: subcutaneous and intramuscular. I told her I would prefer the subcutaneous shot (in my ass) because it hurts less and that would make me oh so happy so she put in a request to my insurance to see if she could get that approved.

Yes, you read that right. My insurance once again can decide if they want to cover a shot that hurts less for me. I literally have to get this for the next five years, so it would be nice if it didn’t give me PTSD every time I need to go in for one. I will R I O T if they do not approve the subcutaneous shot. Again, we need healthcare reform, folks. Insurance should not be deciding something about my care that my doctor and I already agree upon that makes my treatment a less traumatizing experience and that is just as effective. I will save that soap box rant for another post because this one is already toxic enough.

Today’s song lyric of the day is brought to you by Britney Spears, but the remix because this shit is fire.

“With a taste of your lips, I’m on a ride
You’re toxic, I’m slippin’ under
With a taste of a poison paradise
I’m addicted to you
Don’t you know that you’re toxic?”

– Toxic – Y2K & Alexander Lewis Remix, Britney Spears, Y2K, Alexander Lewis