Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): Last month I was discharged from the radiation clinic! I don’t have any further business to conduct with them at this time. Yay me! Today I went in for another monthly injection and lab work. My oncologist is pleased with my labs. My white blood cell count continues to improve and all my other numbers are stable. Goooo me! We will be introducing a new infusion to my regiment either next month or in June called Zometa to help with bone density loss.

Countdown to last day of oral chemo: 310 days

Sometimes I try to daydream what my life would be like if I didn’t have cancer but the farther I get away from February 12, 2022 (the day before I felt the mass in my breast), the harder it has become to conjure such daydreams. I cannot imagine a life without it or what life was like before it. If that makes you sad, it makes me sad too. But not all parts of a life with cancer are depressing. “But Madison, cancer is terrible!” Ah, dear reader, it really is but I found some glowing worms in the dark.

I was house sitting for a good friend last week and part of my daily routine was taking her dog for a walk. Saturday was my last day and it was a very warm afternoon, a perfect day for a stroll. We take the same route every time: cross the street to the school, turn right, and go all the way down to Road 36 until we hit the stop sign. Then it is back the way we came. It clocks in around 17 minutes depending how many times we stop to smell invisible pee spots and fix the leash. The perfect walking distance.

As we passed the school and approached the houses, I could see a small party in someone’s backyard. I am not a creep, but the kind of fencing surrounding the houses doesn’t fully block my eyes from seeing general blobs of activity. Someone had rented a jumping house. You could hear the giggles and screams of pure joy from the kids. As we got closer, the most delicious scent of hot dogs hit my nose. Holy fuck. Sweaty meat links on a BBQ seriously should be a candle scent. Call it “Meaty dreams.” Get it? Instead of sweet dreams?

Buh dun kissssss.

Paloma decided to stop to sniff the same fence we had sniffed all week while I sniffed the air and the most insane sense of joy and calmness filled my lungs. How beautiful it is to feel so alive. My body wants to kill me and yet I am still here, smelling spring scents! I didn’t get to smell hot dogs on the BBQ last year. I didn’t get to housesit for friends or walk dogs. I was laying on the couch this time last year, fighting for my life. I was bald and kinda miserable, but also planning a massive charity event?? Weird. And now I am kind of fighting but in a different way (fighting the urge to not steal hot dogs from a gaggle of children) and not planning a massive birthday party for 200+ of my closest friends. Life is wild?

It is mind-boggling how much we go through. How much we hurt ourselves to heal. It’s such a mixed bag. The side effects feel never-ending. We live in a constant state of fear and stress. And through all of that comes an incredible life changing outlook and appreciation for life. Because when you know what it feels like to be so close to dying, living just feels so sweet and just so simple. I am glad I am here on the other side. It was impossible to picture myself here, the same way it is impossible for me to not see myself anywhere else but in this moment anymore. Is this what it feels like to process grief?

My grief feels like a Jenga tower that is nearing the end of the game, when the removal of any block threatens the collapse of the tower. Every time I try to process a part of my grief, I fear toppling the tower. All facets of my life seem to be connected to my diagnosis right now. If I try to process my self image issues, it is tied to the loss of my breasts and strength, which is connected to having cancer. If I try to process my inability to remember details about others and how painful it is to not retain information, I can point at the white oral chemo bottle on my counter. Cancer again. Marriage issues? Definitely some elements of cancer that have made things worse. Cancer. Cancer. Cancer again.

So fuck it. Maybe I let the tower fall. Then what? I think I fear that the most: Then what?

I don’t know.

I guess none of us ever know. I didn’t know over a year ago this is the type of shit I would be talking about (Jenga, hot dogs, and cancer) but here we fucking are.

In other news, I had a follow up on the radiation side of the clinic last month. My radiation oncologist looked at my well done skin sample and was pleased with her cooking skills. I am healing nicely and was successfully discharged from the clinic. Hopefully I don’t need any more invisible poison sessions in my future.

Today I had my monthly stomach stabbing and visit with my oncologist. My numbers continue to climb and stabilize. It seems my body is adapting well to oral chemo (yay but fuck oral chemo) and we can move into another phase of my maintenance protocol: bone density infusions. Twice a year for the next three ish years I will need to come in for an infusion for a drug called Zometa. According to Drugs.com, “Zometa is a bisphosphonate medicine that alters bone formation and breakdown in the body. This can slow bone loss and may help prevent bone fractures.”

So brief refresh: I have estrogen receptive positive cancer, meaning my cancer eats estrogen to thrive. As part of my treatment plan, I get monthly injections (my Zoladex injection) to my stomach to put my ovaries to sleep, which makes me menopausal. I am also on a hormone blocker that further blocks estrogen in my body. The lack of estrogen has its own side effects, one of which is brittle bones and osteoporosis. To help combat this, Zometa comes into play.

I will do a more in-depth review of this drug but what is interesting is that studies show that these infusions can help keep additional bone mets at bay according to my oncologist. I will have to do more research but the more we can limit metastasis, the better. It sucks I have to take more drugs, but it is a better alternative to dying.

Oh and one more thing about today’s visit was my oncologist was like you are cleared to start exercising again to help combat the fatigue that comes with oral chemo. Literally the last two times I have seen her she has told me I can exercise and I want to be like lady, I never stopped. She was like oh it can help combat the fatigue and if you don’t exercise it can get worse. The predicament I am in is that I am pushing myself FULL THROTTLE right now and sleep just doesn’t seem to cut the fatigue. I am exhausted when I get home from work. I constantly feel like I am swimming upstream. I want to take a vacation from my life and sleep for many days. And the only advice she can give me is to keep going.

So keep going I will, dammit.

Today’s song lyrics of the day are brought to you by Riot Ten.

“Lift your voice and say
No worry, no way
It’s gonna be okay
It will be alright”

– Voices, Riot Ten