Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): I had my first breast reconstruction consultation in Spokane on Friday. The doctor took some very unattractive nudes of me in an awful black paper thong for my records. Looks like I will be able to maintain a similar breast size to my existing breasts. I spent the weekend doing too much, per usual, and now my body is paying the price. We are 12 days away from the charity art fundraiser and I have entered panic mode. Send help!

TO THE LONG VERSION!

Chemo is kicking my ass. Or maybe I am kicking my own ass because I keep doing the most when I should be resting. I honestly think it is a mix of both because I can tell the chemo is compounding in a way. Each week I get weaker and weaker and require more rest. But it is June and we are 12 days from my charity art fundraiser and it is the best time of the year because the weather is better and there is so much to do, so I HAVE NO TIME TO REST. I am insanely tired. I need to duplicate myself and I need more hours in the day. Please send help.

You’re about to be shook with how much I did over the course of the last four days: had chemo; went to Spokane for the consult; went for a bike ride at 6 am; tried to take a bath but couldn’t sit still for more than like five minutes; slept and missed the first 15 minutes of my massage appointment; went to the Pride festival; slept some more; spent an insane amount of time on the toilet because ~surprise~ I am constipated again; visited the flea market; put together a planter box with my dad; got groceries; finally attempting to do more work for my event in 12 days.

I did all of this with extreme fatigue and neuropathy in my little finger tips! Yay cancer!

Random photo intermission!

I hope I was not too much of a risky biscuit this weekend. I just am trying to find balance between isolating myself in the name of a weak immune system and living my life because I feel like I am dying all the time. I have a terrible memory but there is this quote I saw on Tumblr once that featured a blue bird and it read, “The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math.” And look I found it! Thanks Google! I guess time will tell if the risks I took were worth it.

Speaking of terrible memory… my chemo brain is AWFUL. I was at the Pride event this weekend and someone came up to me and I thought they were someone else and I just blah blah blah’d to them how great they were on stage and literally 15 seconds later they politely told me that they are not that person but in fact someone else and I about lost it. LOST IT. I KNOW THIS PERSON. I have known this person for several years and my stupid fucking chemo brain thought they were someone else. Oh I was so embarrassed. They were so kind to me and gave me grace in that moment but gosh I felt like an idiot and it is one of those moments I will think about over and over again at 2 am when I am lonely and want to sleep. My unconscious will remember that, but it won’t remember where I am headed 50 yards away from my house. That happened, too. I was driving and literally forgot where I was going for a minute or two. Yikes.

Another yikes moment this weekend: I had scheduled myself a massage at 12 pm on Saturday. My bitch ass decided to lay down at 10 am because I was ambitious and went for a bike ride at 6 am and needed a nap. Guess who woke up at 12:01 pm and almost MISSED their massage appointment? Luckily the folks there were so kind and called me asking me if I was on my way and I live 5 minutes away so I was able to go for like 40 minutes but again, I WAS EMBARRASSED. I am losing my mind. Losing it! It is GONE. I have never missed an appointment in my life. I hate using the cancer card. It makes me feel like people either think I am lying or that I am using it to get the things I want. Which in reality I don’t really want anything. I just want to be cancer free and normal and functional, but that seems to be a lot to ask of my fucking BRCA1 mutated genes. Cancer has taken over my life in every single way like the Virginia Creeper in my backyard.

I have deeply underestimated the side effects that chemo can have. Chemo brain is one that started off quite subtly and has increased dramatically over time. Also constipation. I cannot go a day anymore without taking Miralax because I am getting infused with steroids every Thursday at this point. My parosmia is still a stupid nightmare when it comes to vegetables, so I am counting on other fiber sources at this point to not feel like my innards want to explode out of me. Also I feel like an ugly potato. I feel bloated all the time, swollen, and my nails look like they want to fall off. Did I mention I constantly have a crusty blood nose because I don’t have nose hairs? Very attractive. I feel awful. My self esteem is like a negative two out of one hundred these days.

So yeah, I am living my life while my body is folding in on itself like a dying star. Eight weeks of chemo left. I really hope I make it because damn this shit is fucking hard.

Today’s song lyrics of the day are brought to you by Mac Miller.

“Tell them they can take that bullshit elsewhere (yeah)
Self-care, I’m treatin’ me right, yeah
Hell yeah, we gonna be alright (we gon’ be alright)

– Self Care, Mac Miller