Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): I completed 3 of the prescribed 6 Zometa infusions today. I have one more later this year and two next year and then I am done with that infusion type!

I met with my oncologist today and was blindsided with some news that I now have to go back on oral chemo. If your mouth just dropped, just keep reading. This time we are fucking around with a different medicine.

And I won’t be covering it in today’s post, but I met with a breast reconstruction surgeon two weeks ago! I will save that for another post because this one is pretty shitty. Literally.

TO THE LONG VERSION!

Star Wars. Jane Eyre. Homer’s Odyssey. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. Interstellar. The Hunger Games. Hercules. If you’ve read or seen these works, then you might have been exposed to a concept called “the hero’s journey.”

According to Wikipedia, the hero’s journey is described as, “In narratology and comparative mythology, also known as the monomyth, is the common template of stories that involve a hero who goes on an adventure, is victorious in a decisive crisis, and comes home changed or transformed.”

A hero’s journey feels good at the end. It feels justified. These individuals faced extreme circumstances and overcame them, regardless of the occasional sprinkle of movie magic or writing assistance. We do not doubt their stories as something worth sharing and learning from. Or maybe we do. But for the sake of this conversation, let’s say we don’t.

Today as I laid in my chemo pod chair, my sweater rested over my eyes as one of my favorite nurses prepared me for my monthly stomach stabbing. I was in an emotional state and in the pitch black of my fake cave she said, “You’re an inspiration. You’re a hero on your journey.” Tears silently flowed down my face.

I don’t think I have ever felt more alone.

-20 minutes prior-

I haven’t met with my oncologist since February. Our last conversation was delightful because it was a bold confirmation that oral chemo was over. I survived a fucking year taking meds that made me feel constantly tired and like I was living in an emotionally vacant and dense fog in my brain. All I could think about was how incredible my labs were going to be when I saw her again. No more low white blood cell count! 10/10 perfect patient.

Here is the thing about my experience with my type of cancer: When things are going well, it is great news but it also means that there is opportunity to see how much more I can take. I thought I had reached the boundaries of what I could handle. I mean, I have done a lot of fucked up things because of cancer. I honestly thought that my previous oral chemo was my last encounter with active treatment.

My oncologist has been cooking up other plans.

My time with her always starts off pleasant. I am honestly surprised she did not ask me today if I was exercising or not. That is her favorite thing to ask me. I wish she would have so I could have told her that I am practicing handstands and I even have a nutritionist. Would that have impressed her? Probably not, but I love to try.

She asked me how I was, I responded that I am great. And then she asked me a weird question…. she asked me how I was on oral chemo. Girl, I’ve been off of that for two months now. Ah, it was all coming back to her. That was my first hidden red flag. She asks me some other questions that were mild mannered and then she brought up my favorite subject: family planning. (That is sarcasm.)

I want to be very clear here that normally she gives me a heads up about what is coming down the pipe in terms of my treatment plan months in advance. Not for all things, but for most. I knew I was going to do chemotherapy for 22 weeks. I knew I would have a double mastectomy. I even knew about radiation and oral chemo. I knew all of this when I started this stupid adventure two fucking years ago. I knew that all of this meant to save my life so that maybe if I wanted to have little Madison’s running around someday, this would be the best way to go about it.

I knew. I knew. I fucking knew.

What I did NOT know was today as she asked me (but did not let me respond) about my future life plans, that she now wants to put me BACK ON FUCKING ORAL CHEMO. FOR TWO YEARS! All in the name of helping me avoid recurrence. I mean, noble cause. But this time it would be a different kind of oral chemo: Verzenio.

I am not new here folks. I know about Verzenio. I am in enough stage IV support groups at this point that every time I see a post about Verzenio side effects, I count my lucky fucking stars that my oncologist has never brought this up to me. Until today. I am never counting fucking stars ever again.

According to the Verzenio site, here is everything you as a cancer muggle needs to know:

Verzenio is a CDK4 & 6 inhibitor used to treat HR+, HER2– metastatic breast cancer. Verzenio works to block specific proteins called CDK4 & CDK6. CDK4 & 6 proteins help control how fast cells grow. These proteins, along with hormones like estrogen, play an important role in the growth and division process of normal cells.

But if you have HR+, HER2– breast cancer, CDK4 & 6 proteins become overactive, causing the cancer cells to grow and divide uncontrollably, which makes the tumor grow. This can also lead to cancer cells spreading to other parts of the body, which is called metastasis.

Verzenio can be taken alone, but it is usually taken with hormone therapy to slow the growth of cancer cells. Hormone therapy (an aromatase inhibitor or fulvestrant) works outside the cell to help cut off estrogen that feeds the cancer. Verzenio works inside the cell to block CDK4 & 6 activity and help stop the growth of cancer cells, so they may eventually die.* When Verzenio inhibits CDK4 & 6 in healthy cells, it can lead to side effects, some of which may be serious.

Recap: I am 80% hormone positive (HR+), BRCA1+ (a gene responsible for a dramatic increased risk of breast, ovarian, and pancreatic cancers), and stage IV, the final stage of cancer. So I mean, okay this medicine makes sense. But the side effects. YOU GUYS. Here are some of my top favorites: nausea, infections, low red blood cell count, headache, hair thinning and hair loss, abdominal pain, tiredness, vomiting, low white blood cell count, and low platelet count. But my absolute favorite side effect that can last the first month up to three months is DIARRHEA! There is a whole page dedicated to diarrhea management!

“Overall, the key information to know about diarrhea: it can be managed with the appropriate steps, so EXPECT, PLAN, and ACT.“

I am sure all of you are like “Madison, its not a big deal.” Yeah well it will be a big deal when I am deadlifting in CrossFit and I shit myself.

All jokes aside, the diarrhea is whatever. I will just shit myself. It is fine. My problem is I was completely blindsided by the fact that I got two beautiful months off from being poisoned, was bamboozled into thinking that things were going to be fucking great for a while, and now I have to go back to poison town.

I am sorry but I am so sick and tired of chemo. This is as close as I have been to experiencing life before cancer again. I feel more normal, less foggy, and more like me. I missed me so much. I missed my vibrant feelings. I missed feeling energized. I missed having a brain. And all of that is about to go away in roughly one month. She has to go get my insurance to approve the medication and then my two year time clock will start.

There is nothing heroic about the journeys cancer patients take. We do it because we want to live. So being called inspirational and a hero is especially hard when I feel like I have done nothing except choose the path that many would select for themselves: to extend their time earthside.

But as my favorite nurse stabbed me in my stomach, as the tears of sadness rolled down my face, I had a moment of clarity: I may not identify as a hero to others, but in my own journey, I am the hero of my own story. I am making the choice to keep moving forward, to live, to endure hard things I do not want to do. I do not want to be on oral chemo, but in my appointment I already knew I would give my doctor the consent she needed to order my medication. I am on an adventure (maybe one I would have never selected), I continue to encounter crisis after crisis, and I am so far achieving the goals I set: to survive and say that I’m still fucking here.

Fuck Verzenio. Fuck cancer. I am not fucking done.

Today’s song lyrics of the day are brought to you by a Disney classic, “Hercules.”

“I will find my way, I can go the distance
I will be there someday, if I can be strong
I know every mile will be worth my while
I would go most anywhere, to feel like I belong”

– Go the Distance, Roger Bart, Disney