Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): Chemo #15 is complete. WE HAVE ONE CHEMO LEFT! ONE. JUST ONE. But the stomach shots seem to have no end. My numbers are still low, a testament to the compounding effects of chemo. I had my Zoladex shot today (hormone suppressant) and of course tomorrow and Saturday I will have my growth factor shots. Yay me… Seven days left and one fucking chemo. Fuck me up, fam.

TO THE LONG VERSION!

“How fucked up would it be if I had my least favorite nurse today for my second to last chemo? That would be so fucked up,” I said to my emotional support human today on our way to chemo. We didn’t have any wood to knock on but I should have not uttered the words because the universe responded. My least favorite nurse was assigned to me today for treatment. I feel bad saying someone is my least favorite but it is true. I am a nice person and I think I am allowed to not enjoy everyone I interact with. I will always be nice and polite and break bread with folks, but sometimes I just would prefer to break bread with someone else.

If you remember back in June, I had a treatment days before my 30th birthday and days after. The first time I had the nurse was the treatment before my birthday. In a nutshell, it was not a positive experience. They told me to bite my tongue mid conversation when we were discussing how it felt not very busy in the chemo ward that day. They also just were not friendly, rather cold, and had zero interest in talking to me, but I heard them creating conversation with their other patients. The following week they had me again and pretended not to know me. (Not sure if they pretended or not, but it was super weird.) They commented on my cat banner I had hanging and said they saw the same one last week in another pod.

I was like that was literally me. You had me a week ago.

Now, there could be numerous things at play here. Maybe she had two back to back not great days at work and my cheery extra guac self was just too much for her. Or maybe she just isn’t a super warm person in general. But those two treatments were just so… bleh. I like walking away from treatment feeling like “Yeah, I just got poisoned but so what? I made three friends and stole five oatmeals!” And today I just was like “Yeah, I just got poisoned and made five Shrek jokes and my nurse probably thinks I am the worst.” I don’t care if she likes me or not, but I do care about having a great experience at chemotherapy. I am literally getting poison pumped into me. The least you can do is acknowledge my humanity for a bit.

Anyway, I had the nurse that is not my favorite but we made the most of the day. The cancer center is allowing TWO guests at chemo these days so you already know I am taking advantage of that perk. The more the merrier! But the worst part of the day was realizing it was a Zoladex day. You all know how I feel about shots and this shot in my stomach is yuck. I told my nurse that I hated it and she was like, “Yeah… me too. I don’t like giving it.” I told her if Christie was there, she should ask her. She did my shot last time and I did not feel it AT ALL. It was magical. But my nurse decided to do it herself and it hurt and took forever. It sucked. I was sad potato and have no doubt that my stomach is going to bruise from that one. After we got that nonsense out of the way, we had a shit ton of laughs and Shrek jokes.

In essence, we encourage you all to find a way to say “Not my gumdrop buttons!” with the gingerbread man’s accent mid sex with your partner and report back what happens next. Or don’t report back. You can keep that delicious moment to yourself.

In other news, my book “Human After All” turns FIVE YEARS OLD TODAY! Every year I have a ritual: I listen to every story, reread them, and then promptly sob my eyes out. There are 24 fantastic stories of human resiliency, of vulnerability, of pain and joy, and of course love. It is hard not to be grateful every anniversary for the opportunity to meet and share their stories along with the art show and book publication. And I love that it landed on my chemo day. It just feels so…. meant to be. In adversity comes strength. I am fatigued out and my fingers suck and life feels dark at times, but I am pretty sure I get to walk out of this situation alive and that is a gift I need to offer gratitude to. Not every cancer patient gets to do that.

You, too, can join in my ritual! If you have the book, fantastic! Grab a pair of headphones and visit this link to hear every story recorded by the participants.

No book? No problem. You can view the images here as you listen along. Feeling nostalgic like me? Here is the photo album from the event to reminisce and enjoy.

I appreciate this series because it has become the foundation of my portrait work. I look at these photos and recognize that I can definitely take a better portrait these days, but the project created was more than just me taking a photo. It was a chance to give others a platform and opportunity to be heard and sometimes that is all that matters. As photographers we will all continue to grow and move forward and critique past work. I think that is normal in any profession/hobby. The goal is to get better. But these stories are so powerful and I am so grateful to the folks who chose to participate. It strengthened my empathy, bridged understanding, and I just think the whole experience enriched my life. I also made 24 life long friends. That is a win that can never be taken away.

Here’s to 7 more days in chemo hell and one more treatment, one more time. Can’t wait to celebrate!

Today’s song lyrics of the day are brought to you by Daft Punk.

“One more time
One more time

One more time, we’re gonna celebrate
Oh yeah, alright, don’t stop the dancing”

– One More Time, Daft Punk