Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): It is the eve of my last red devil chemo. I cannot believe I made it! I still need to endure and survive the next two weeks until my first round of weekly Taxol. Yesterday, my mom’s golf friends held a fundraiser in my honor. Um, how sweet is that? How did I get so lucky for so many people to want to care for me??!

TO THE LONG VERSION!

I consider myself lucky, privileged, and blessed to have a mom and a dad who exemplify what it means to be a servant leader and to give selflessly. They both genuinely have always gone out of their way to help others, regardless of what is happening in their lives. Growing up, my dad was the first to befriend the neighbors and quickly became friends with two of the elderly folks in our cul-de-sac. He would help them with their yards, run errands with them, join them for lunch. My mom has always had a big heart, running a daycare and going above and beyond caring for the kids and families who came. Both made others feel loved and valued and cared for. They were the greatest demonstration of giving to others without expectation of receiving, but our lives always felt so rich and full.

Even though my parents are no longer together, they both have continued to care for those in their communities. My dad is still the first person you would want to call when you need help. He is steady, dependable, and resourceful. My mom is the first person to step up and offer a hand to help, no matter what you are doing and she does it with a smile and probably some cute jokes. They both have impacted so many people with their generosity and love that those actions and behaviors have always been what I have strived to do in my own life. How can I care for others? Where are the needs in the communities I belong to?

I’ve learned to redefine “community” over the years. Community is more than just the one we live in. I like to view it as a taxonomy of sorts. At the top, it is the Tri-Cities community. Then it breaks down into which city I specifically live in, where I went to school, the organizations I participate in, where I work, my neighborhood, the various friend and professional groups I interact with, interest and hobby groups, even the spaces I belong to online. At the very bottom of the taxonomy is my community in my home with my partner and two cats and random spiders that crawl into my tub. Hey, when they are here, they are family!

We all participate in several communities in informal and formal ways. Within those communities, we decide how active we can be. The more you participate (in any form), the stronger the sense of community might feel. At any time we can remove ourselves from these communities depending how we feel they serve us where we are in life. Communities are quite fluid and ever changing, yet constantly available, especially in the digital world.

Beyond our personal community taxonomies, we may also belong or benefit by extension from the communities that those closest to us belong to. In this scenario, we will use my mom as an example. She is part of an extensive golf community because of where she lives, how often she plays, and the level of participation in her community. Everyone I have ever met always says the same thing to me when they meet me for the first time: “We love your mom so much. She is so wonderful.”

When her golf friends found out I was diagnosed with cancer, they immediately sprung into action and planned a golf fundraiser in my honor. Yesterday was that event. I was humbled and stunned by the support and love I felt when I went to say hello and send them off to play. Here is a group of women who (most) do not know me, but have taken me into their community as one of their own because of my mom. Everyone greeted me with hugs and wishes of defeating cancer. Cancer seems to be something that we all are affected by at some point in our lives. I really wish we weren’t. That common thread is so painful, yet powerfully connective. I left in tears feeling so loved and supported. The feeling of community is a priceless thing. Photo intermission time!

In those moments of gratitude, it was hard not to feel guilty and recognize my privilege. I am going to make it financially. I am going to be okay, but not everyone who endures a chronic illness can survive the financial burden that comes with that kind of diagnosis, let alone the diagnosis itself. I am so lucky to not only have the support and love of the communities I belong to, but also access to other communities from others around me.

I don’t know if my taxonomy community theory is real. It is just how I visualize things working in my life. I feel like there is probably a real scientific psychological theory out there that I just ripped off because I was too lazy to Google it and I am like seven years post degree, but it sounds good to me. I am sure I learned about it somewhere and now my unconscious mind has made it its own. Oh well.

I cannot wait for the day that I am better and can resume giving back to the communities who have and are supporting me at this time.

Now let’s go kick that red devil ass one more time!!!!

Today’s song lyric of the day is brought to you by Whitney Houston.

“Bring me higher love, love
Bring me higher love

Think about it, there must be a higher love
Down in the heart or hidden in the stars above
Without it, life is wasted time
Look inside your heart, and I’ll look inside mine

– Higher Love, Kygo, Whitney Houston

Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): Welcome to chemo week!!! IT IS MY LAST RED DEVIL CHEMO! We have MADE IT! Time flies when you are getting poisoned. We need to celebrate somehow. Red jello shots without alcohol? Maybe we can put a little whipped cream on top. Okay, that would be really funny to bring fake jello shots with me to chemo on Thursday. I might have to do that now…

TO THE SHORT VERSION!

Today felt like exhaling after holding your breath under water. I wasn’t weighed down by fatigue. My brain felt open like the blue sky. My head doesn’t feel like it is going to explode anymore. I feel energetic. I exercised this morning. I ate normally today. I got a lot done at work and solved so many problems!

This is as close to normal as I have felt like in a long time.

I am taking this good day as a sign and I am preparing for battle on Thursday. I hate that how I feel and how I am functioning can fluctuate so quickly. I guess it comes with the territory of being a cancer ass kicker.

So instead of spending my day writing a really long blog post I am going to go enjoy this rare moment and get as much as I can done! My goals are to finish processing all the sticker orders tonight and finalize the poster for my art charity event by Thursday. Of course I will have a full post about that this week! I will be calling on all of you magical readers to help if you have capacity and are willing.

Thank you my little cancer body for showing up today. I love you. ❤

Today’s song lyric of the day is brought to you by Lizzo.

“Woo girl, need to kick off your shoes
Got to take a deep breath, time to focus on you
All the big fights, long nights that you been through
I got a bottle of Tequila I been saving for you”

– Good as Hell, Lizzo

Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): I’ve had a fucking weekend, friends. Two ER visits solved the mystery of my head: a bacterial infection that resulted in an abscess that was making my lymph nodes angry because they couldn’t help me fight the infection. I am now on the mend, but everything I wanted to get done this weekend did NOT get done. I need another version of me that is cancer free who can get all the “Fuck cancer! Enjoy rainbows!” stickers out to you all!

TO THE LONG VERSION!

Have you been personally victimized by your own immune system? If so, you may be entitled to compensation. Call 1-800-FUCK-OFF to see what you qualify for today!!

Yes, I would like to file a claim under, “What the fuck!!? I have a bacterial infection on my head that has been causing me pain and I had to go to the ER twice!”

If you’ve been following the fuckening, it has been an ongoing saga that I am happy to report has a good ending. But of course, it involved more pain, a needle, a scalpel, and a week’s worth of antibiotics.

I left the ER Friday with swollen lymph nodes on the back of my head. Saturday morning, I woke up and my weird lump was mostly gone but my headache had moved from localized to my whole head. Not good. I took my pain meds and told myself I had to get through the weekend so I could talk to my oncologist on Monday. As the day wore on, the headache was still persistent despite taking an opioid. (For the record, my goal was to go my whole treatment without taking opioids, but this head issue was something I made a concession for since it has been fucking painful.) Again, red flag.

My mom and sister came over around 4 pm since we were on a mission to visit our local dispensary to get my medical marijuana card (I got it because I am a cancer patient yay me!) I’ve been interested in exploring CBD and THC products as an alternative to opioids to help manage pain and assist with appetite if I need it, so I was really excited to get my paperwork and get the process going. Before we left, I wanted my mom to examine my head to see how it was doing since I can’t really see it and fuck I wish I would have asked someone sooner. Let’s take a look at exhibit one.

What I forgot to mention in my previous post was that when I was at ER visit number one on Friday, the ultrasound tech made a comment that she thought the red little dot on my head could be the one causing havoc on my lymph nodes. Red dots near inflammation? Never a good sign. But none of the nurses said anything to me. So when I took off my cute turban, my mom and sister gasped at the sight of the little scalp abscess. Our weed dreams were now put on hold with another lovely visit to the ER. Gosh how lucky I am to have spent not only my Friday night but Saturday evening at the ER!

Luckily, the same nurse who had me as a patient Friday evening was working as the triage nurse and got me into a room within ten minutes of my arrival since she knew that I was a cancer patient and I was back, so she was very concerned. I ended up having the same PA and nurse again and everyone was shook at the sight of my little bald bitch of a head! And suddenly it all made sense. I was diagnosed with an infected abscess on my scalp and it was time for us to release the kraken! Just kidding. Just puss. But that unfortunately meant a needle to my head to numb me up, a scalpel slicing me like Fruit Ninja, and another needle poking about looking for the goods.

I normally do not like to call myself brave because nothing about being a cancer patient makes me brave. I just have to endure because I want to live. However, last night I was brave when she numbed me up and was digging around. I mustered my last bit of energy since I so badly wanted to feel better. My pain was so incredibly intense. Unfortunately, the PA could not find the puss pocket and didn’t want to keep digging but said she would prescribe some antibiotics (cephalexin) and that would clear up my bacterial infection.

I woke up in even more pain this morning. I really thought there was a third ER visit in my future so I was mentally preparing myself. I took another pain med and hoped for the best. By 3 pm, there was this weird release. My head didn’t feel consumed by the headache that I have had since Thursday. I suddenly just felt pain that felt like was there because someone had sliced me open.

My new healing wound looks pretty gnarly, so I didn’t want to include it just in case some folks reading this are sensitive to gory images, but of course if you know me you can personally message me for pictures! Photo consent is good consent, same practice I have with my red urine photo.

Basically an ingrown hair that turned buck wild tried to take me out. How sad if my tombstone said I died from complications from a bacterial infection caused by an ingrown hair that hated me and not fucking cancer? That would have been wack.

New moral of the story: Inflammation with something that doesn’t look normal and is near by might be bad.

I live to blog another day.

P.S.: Stickers are coming! I started processing them today. My first batch of ones being sent out in the mail go out tomorrow. I am still processing in-person delivery orders, but will contact you all shortly to schedule pick up. I do have red devil chemo #4 on Thursday, so if you’re willing to come by my house to get your order this weekend since I will be couch ridden, you are welcome to stop by! Just don’t forget your mask!

Today’s song lyric of the day is brought to you by GARZA.

“I’ve been walking a lonely road
I’m on my own til I get home
It’s almost morning the sun is low
And when I go you’ll never know
No, no, no
No, no, no
Yeah you can try but you can’t kill me”

– Can’t Kill Me, GARZA, Walker & Royce, Calica

Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): This morning I had my consult for radiation! I am still many moons away from starting radiation, but it was great to learn what it will entail. I also had my first ER visit (ever) for my head lump. It has been a day to say the least.

TO THE LONG VERSION!

“The Fuckening” can be described as when your day is going too well and you don’t trust it and some shit finally goes down.

Ah there it is, the fuckening.

Here is what I have learned about chemo: you get told all the possible side effects and for some reason in my mind I just assumed you would have like a couple of the side effects all the time and that would be that. But no. Every chemo I have experienced has had different side effects each time. The first round was nausea and fatigue that made me feel like a sad worthless little potato. The second round was constipation. Ugh. The third round? Chemo brain and lumpy head lumps. I wonder what round four will bring.

This week has been hard, but like manageable. I mean I got lost at Target, but I obviously made it home. The last two days I have been doing better and I thought I was on my way up, but then the fuckening happened: the lump on my head. The pain felt like bone pain initially but late yesterday night it became a bit harder to ignore and seemed like a problem I needed to address. So this morning I woke up with plans to tell my radiation oncologist during our consult about my strange new addition. I was actually excited to learn about radiation treatment mainly because although cancer really sucks, I enjoy learning about all the medical in’s and outs. It has been the strangest and hardest journey I have ever been on, but also the most interesting.

I have to say the radiation ward of the cancer center is not nearly as exciting or vibrant as oncology and hematology. It feels a bit sad. And it is a lot more quiet. I loved meeting my radiation oncologist though. She is fabulous! But she is also retiring in June, so I most likely will not be receiving care from her which is insanely sad. She was so thorough during our consult, writing notes on a notepad for me as she talked. Um who does that?! So nice. All forms of my learning styles were entirely fulfilled. I will receive 28 rounds of radiation following my double mastectomy. I will go five days a week for a couple of minutes, get some lasers pointed at me that will give me a sunburn and burn all possible leftover cancer cells, and be on my way. It will be my final leg of my cancer journey before reconstruction, which will happen a year after radiation is complete. It is hard to believe I will be breastless for a year. The mastectomy part of cancer is a part I think I will really struggle with but I don’t want to think about that right now.

Before my consult started my mom wanted my radiation oncologist to examine my head lump since it had gotten worse. Gotta love moms because here I was just waiting until the end of the appointment to ask about my weird head issue and she wanted answers now. Thanks mom! So she examined it and put in an order for an x-ray. By the time I left and went to work, the pain had increased in my mysterious lump so I called the imaging center, but they said my order wasn’t in and probably wasn’t going to get approved until at least Monday so I started thinking of a plan B: do I want to go to the ER? I’ve never been to the ER in my life and in my mind it is somewhere you go late at night when it is storming and you are insanely sick and someone is like randomly bleeding out on the floor. I watched too much Grey’s Anatomy growing up.

Long story short, I made the decision to go to the ER to get it checked out because I was in enough pain, the nurse at the cancer center told me it could be a cyst that might need to be drained, and I just didn’t think I could wait all weekend in my current state to get some answers. Emergency rooms are basically places you go to just wait and wait and hope that you’re in much worse shape than anyone else in the waiting room so you can get seen faster. Luckily, “cancer patient with head pain” is the golden ticket to get seen, so I got a room fairly quickly. Nobody was bleeding out, but there was a lady who was puking a lot so I felt really bad.

Emergency rooms are kind of spooky. There are so many gadgets on the wall that you hope you don’t need. I had a physician’s assistant and nurse both examine my lovely lady lumps (aka my head lump) and both said “Hmmm this is weird and interesting.” Very reassuring. They ordered me an ultrasound and two and a half hours later, I was told that the radiologist ruled my ultrasound results inconclusive, but they think it could be angry and inflamed lymph nodes. They basically said if it gets worse, come back. Otherwise, tell your oncologist Monday and hopefully the inflammation goes down.

Again, very reassuring.

I mean, I get it. These folks are not cancer experts like my oncologist is but damn. Inflamed lymph nodes could be right given that is a possible side effect, but does it really manifest like this and out of nowhere? Is it this painful? Why my head and why so quickly? For bébé’s first ER visit, it was not my favorite and I felt like I had wasted two and a half hours of my time to be told to just take some ibuprofen and hope things work themselves out. I guess I am glad to know it is not a brain bleed or something terrible, but I still left in pain with no solution. Anything can happen with cancer, so I would rather take pain that I don’t understand or have never experienced seriously than to ignore it. We take no chances here! Your girl wants to LIVE!

So I am back home, still in pain, and still lumpy. Moral of the story? The fuckening can happen at any time. Stay vigilant, my friends.

Today’s song lyric of the day is brought to you by Big Sean. I was singing this to the lump on my head. I do give a fuck about lumps on my head for the record.

“I don’t give a fuck, I don’t give a fuck, I don’t, I don’t
I don’t give a fuck, bitch, I don’t give a
Fuck about you, or anything that you do”

– I Don’t Fuck With You, Big Sean, E-40

Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): I have my consultation with radiology tomorrow morning at 8:30 am at the cancer center. Can’t wait to report back about all the things I will learn! I also have a really achy hard lump on the back of my skull? Not sure what that is about. I will make sure to include a photo in here somewhere for you all to see.

TO THE LONG VERSION!

Are you a dreamer, reader? Do you remember your dreams? Most of the time I can. There are dreams I still remember having as a kid. A lot of them involved tornadoes and me running away from them. There was one that took place at the Kennewick library on Union Street in the park. (Fun fact: we lived behind the library growing up so it was our backyard!) I was running away from a tornado, trying to get into a house that apparently Oprah owned. She wouldn’t let me in, so I had to just keep running. (Bitch!) But running in my dreams is a weird act on its own. I run SO SLOW, which I think is a reflection of the fact that I am not a natural runner in the non dreamscape world. My knees barely move and most of the time I am also partially blind. My dreams are pure anxiety. Since being on anxiety meds, I haven’t really had an anxious dream… until last night.

I abruptly woke up in sweat around 2:30 am this morning (thanks menopause??) The rain was pouring outside. I was hot, confused, anxious, and upset. In my dream, someone at work told me that I had to put key chains on 5,000 “brag tags” which is something I just purchased at work for another department. They are basically like the scannable gym cards you put on your key rings, except these are super fun, are for the library and not the gym, and are reading themed for kids. In my dream, this person told me that nobody could help me and I had to do it all in one day. I struggled to get one key chain on a brag tag because my hands are so fucked up from chemo. I ended up crying in the dream and waking up.

First off, fuck anxiety dreams. Second, I am glad that anxiety lives in me somewhere because I do miss my anxiety just a little bit. It feels like a part of me that keeps me alert and on my game. Without a little anxiety, I am floaty Madison with no real agenda other than I am trying my best. I don’t think my anxiety meds are dulling me too much anymore, but it is weird to live in my brain without high functioning anxiety 24/7. Thirdly, that dream woke me up, made it so I couldn’t fall back to sleep, and I got to focus on the immense bone pain I was randomly experiencing in the middle of the night!

I don’t think my bone pain is related to cancer in my bones at this point since I primarily experience it when I am at my lowest white blood cell count which is a week after treatment. I also have not really felt it in my spine, which is where there is concern for metastatic cancer, so that is a good sign, I think? Don’t quote me, I am not a doctor but merely living in my body interpreting things. I am currently a week out from my third red devil treatment (and one week away from my final round of red devil!), so this makes sense for me. It is a side effect of my body recovering from chemo and my growth factor shot to help my body make more white blood cells. But the pain is pretty uncomfortable.

I imagine myself as a worm being shoved into a little straw when I experience bone pain. I wiggle about and there is some room, but I am trapped. The pain is a dull ache that reminds me of when I had COVID. Today’s bone pains were in my hips, lower back, and the back of my skull. I took my anxiety med today which is an SNRI (also known as a serotonin–norepinephrine reuptake inhibitor which helps with my anxiety and depression but also with nerve pain) and I put some CBD balm for good measure.

Speaking of pain, there is this really unusual lump I just discovered this evening on the back of my skull. It aches and is hard and protrudes out. I have decided to wait it out until the morning and not go to the ER, but I am concerned. Of course all lumps in my body make me want to scream, “DID THE CANCER MOVE?” but then my sister lovingly reminded me this evening that my body is currently saying no to cancer with chemo and it is probably not that. But what is it??? I will have to update you all tomorrow when I talk with a medical professional.

Today’s song lyric of the day is brought to you by George Thorogood & The Destroyers, naturally.

“The head nurse spoke up
And she said “leave this one alone”
She could tell right away
That I was bad to the bone”

– Bad To The Bone, George Thorogood & The Destroyers

Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): Great news! “Fuck cancer! Enjoy rainbows!” stickers are on their way to my mailbox! All of you lovely humans will be receiving your orders soon. I am guessing my shipment will arrive either end of this week or early next week, depending how quick the mail system is working in our favor. Just in time for red devil chemo #4! I love good timing. Also happy 4/20 for those of you who participate! I found out yesterday that my medical marijuana card was approved. Again, I love good timing.

TO THE LONG VERSION!

Lately I have dreaded anyone asking me how I am doing. Do they actually want to know how I am really doing or are they just asking because it is the polite thing to do, a reflex greeting? As humans, we walk into spaces and we greet folks and we ask them how they are, expecting a canned response. We want to hear “I am great! How are you?” and not, “Oh my cancer is fucking up my whole life today. I’ve cried like five times and my bones hurt so bad that I cannot sit for long periods of time.” *Cue half smiles, shifting eyes, and a crab walk out the nearest door*

Realness and vulnerability is uncomfortable, especially as it relates to chronic illness and disease. They can be hard to relate to if you’ve never personally experienced them or have seen a loved one endure. However, these conversations and moments are important to listen into and be present for because we can learn to build empathy in these shared spaces. We simply are looking for connection. “Connection is why we are here,” according to my favorite storyteller-researcher Brené Brown. (If you’re reading that name for the first time, oh my gosh! Your life is about to change. And you need to watch her stellar TEDx talk right now.)

When I am open and honest about how I am really doing, I worry that it is too heavy for someone to hear and guilt and shame wash over me. Should I have not shared how difficult it was for me to get up this morning? How showering has become my only safe space to not feel like I am in pain? I realize that not everyone knows how to respond. It isn’t like we were all given a high school course on how to foster healthy and safe conversations around difficult topics, but it should definitely be a class. I mean I guess that is why therapy exists, but therapy is not readily accessible to all folks and there are still stigmas that surround therapy and what it means to go. We need more spaces for emotional intelligence to be explored, appreciated, and learned! But, I digress… you get my point I think. Ultimately, I feel bad making others feel like they have to care about my deep dark thoughts that they really didn’t ask for so sometimes I just wish nobody would ask me anything at all.

I think people want me to be fine, which is a normal response in this scenario. Hell, I want to to be fine! It is a good wish and intention. I am young! I’ve got a decent support network. I was relatively healthy before my diagnosis. But “fine” doesn’t exist in my vocabulary right now. Even on the days I am “better,” I am not fine. I oscillate between the lowest depths of hell and twenty feet above that. I am scared to share the version of myself that has cancer. I am scared to share how I really am feeling. I feel like I am too much and yet feel like I am not enough. The inability to connect and relate with others and my fear that others do not want to connect with me can feel incredibly isolating at times.

“And shame is really easily understood as the fear of disconnection: Is there something about me that, if other people know it or see it, that I won’t be worthy of connection? ” – Brené Brown

You need to watch the TEDx talk right now.

Life feels immensely short now. It feels shorter than normal. We all know our time here on this planet is but a speck in the grand scheme of the universe, but cancer just makes it feel even smaller. I have a fear I will not make it out of this diagnosis alive. I crave meaning and depth in every interaction I have now. Every moment I have to exist is suddenly the most precious thing I have ever owned because I don’t know how much time I have left. I want to be heard and given space to share things about myself that drown me at night when I am alone. I want to be seen! I am more than my cancer diagnosis, yet it is the one thing that is dramatically consuming my life at this time. Simultaneously, I want to give space to others who are willing to share with me. I want you to be heard and loved and feel safe enough to share with me, too. I am not fragile. I have capacity to care for others regardless of my situation. You do not need to protect me or feel like sharing what you are enduring in life is a burden for me because I can create space for you, too. Your lived experience is just as valuable as mine. My need for connection is just as valuable as yours. Sharing and connection can be healing.

I want to clarify that nobody in particular triggered this blog post, so please do not think you did something wrong by simply being human and asking me questions. This blog post bloomed out of my therapy session and a conversation with my mom. Existing with cancer is fucking hard. Pretending to be fine is a survival skill, maybe even a coping skill, both in the real world and in my own head. And I just hope if you ask me how I am, that you really want to know.

Today’s song lyric of the day is brought to you by The Raconteurs.

“You don’t understand me.
But if the feeling was right you might
Comprehend me.”

– You Don’t Understand Me, The Raconteurs

Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): We are four days post third round of red devil chemotherapy! I cannot believe I only have one round of the red devil left before I hit the weekly chemo treatments. I continue to be surprised at what my body can handle and what it cannot. I also have successfully made it through this third chemo period without taking any anti nausea pills! That is a HUGE win for me! And so far, we are doing okay in the poop department. But of course I have replaced one side effect with something else: I have seem to have lost my brain.

TO THE LONG VERSION!

I woke up feeling like a fresh sprig of rosemary this morning. I seemed alert, bright, centered, and rested. I scan my body each morning, checking in on myself. How am I feeling? Did I sleep okay? How is my anxiety? Can I take care of myself today? There is a lot that goes into my emotional health these days. Mornings always invigorate me. It is when I am most creative, most active, and most excited. Unsurprisingly, I’ve always been an early bird. I am always the first to fall asleep at any party (and can do it with great ease!) and the first to wake up, bored and ready to go home. As much as I am an extrovert, I am very much a homebody and a creature of my habits and dwellings.

I remember being at this party when I was maybe 19 or 20? It was in a small apartment behind my old work. I don’t remember much other than there was some sort of banana liquor involved, a terrible portable stereo, glitter and fake diamonds, and bad pizza. I also think someone broke something in the kitchen? I honestly cannot remember. I woke up behind a couch at 6:30 am on a Sunday morning, confused as fuck with drool on my face and someone’s loud ass alarm going off in a room I didn’t have access into. I smelled bad, slept like shit, and had a vague memory of falling asleep in someone’s closet before moving behind the couch. How did I get behind the couch? Why was I even in the closet?

Damn. Those were the days.

Instead of vague drunken memories, I now have chemo brain. Although my day started fairly alert and promising, something shifted by lunch time. It almost felt like my brain was a fish tank with sand and sediment at the bottom. Someone came in, shook up the tank, and now everything is floating about chaotically. Like a goldfish, my memory span has significantly decreased. I could not remember where I put certain files on the drives at work. I couldn’t even remember what the files were called! A new person started in our HR department and I knew her from a previous job and I knew that I knew that, but I could not place any memories of this person in my life. The amount of frustration and anger I had today with myself was unreal. My brain went from a sunny day to last week’s shitty weather. I haven’t had a clear thought since 11 am.

The trouble with chemo brain is that it happens out of nowhere and I have zero idea how long it will last for. Basic thoughts today took every ounce of my energy to sort. I found myself questioning everything I was doing. I felt paranoid that I was doing something wrong. Even driving to Target after work was somewhat scary for me. I kept wondering if I was driving too fast, too slow, or if my turns were too abrupt. I got lost in Target because I couldn’t remember where the frames were at. At least you can blend in wandering aimlessly at Target because everyone else is doing it, too. But for a minute I genuinely was scared for myself. I didn’t know what to do. I suddenly felt overwhelmed and wondered if I could have an anxiety attack in Target even though I am on anxiety meds. I have never felt more alone in my brain. I am a goldfish lost at sea.

So, what causes chemo brain? According to Cancer.org, “Chemo brain is most commonly connected with chemotherapy, but other treatments, such as hormone therapy, radiation, and surgery may be associated with it also. These treatments can cause short-term, long-term, or delayed mental changes or cognitive problems.” Chemo brain can look like issues with concentrating, difficultly remember details, trouble with multitasking, taking longer to finish tasks, inability to find words, and memory lapses.

I am pretty sure that nobody really noticed much of my chemo brain today other than me, but I did express several times during conversations with co-workers that I was having difficulty processing my thoughts, maintaining conversation, and remembering small details. In the midst of those vulnerable confessions, I felt like people might think I am lying or using my cancer as an excuse to not maintain relationships or conversations. How stupid is that thought? Here I am, all poisoned up, and my brain is trying to tell me that people think I am lying. What kind of fuckery is this??? And that is chemo brain for you: a deceitful, confusing as fuck landscape.

The worst part is that I am acutely aware that I am having problems and there are differences in my thinking. It pains me. It makes me feel incompetent. And there is not a fucking thing I can do about it. Well, apparently I can try to eat more veggies and do word puzzles according to that website, but Wordle is only once a day and my parosmia is still fucking around with like 80% of the veggies I encounter. There are no wins for me today.

If you see me lost in thought, struggling about like a lost little goldfish, please show me compassion. Maybe even give me a hug. If I am slow to reply to your texts or calls, know this isn’t the real me right now. It is the cancer. It is the chemotherapy. And I just need a really long nap.

Today’s song lyric of the day is brought to you by Party Favor.

“Waves are crashing behind both eyes
I can’t see clearly when the world’s in divide
Millions of pieces, there’s nowhere to hide
I’m spinning in circles, I’m losing my mind”

– Losing My Mind (with Elohim), Party Favor, Elohim

Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): We are two days post chemo and so far I am feeling alert and functional. I have a bit of chemo brain with small details, but nothing too major. I still believe that fluids are the secret to my success, but I am definitely on poop watch right now. I refuse to have another Tuesday like last week. Time to make some more Miralax milkshakes! Who’s thirsty and in need of a good poop?

TO THE SHORT VERSION:

I realized that the current template I am using for WordPress makes all of the images I share black and white. That is so fucking lame! This whole time I thought it was just black and white for me, but it looks like as a reader you don’t get the full impact of color either. I looked into it and I guess you cannot change the template, not even the coding! It makes it all messy. I am a website n00b. I might switch blog templates, but I am also a sucker for a minimalist page. Would it be weird for me to switch it mid blog adventure? Aesthetic problems.

**Update: A friend texted me and said everything is in color on their end! So I’m the only one who sees black and white images. How deceiving!

Since my cancer diagnosis, my side hustle life has really slowed down. I am the kind of person that likes to see how much I can pile on my plate before the plate cracks and I am eating the food off the ground. It is weird to prioritize rest and sleep and just being a lil couch potato. Chemo really kicks your ass though and I know rest is just as important as the poison I get injected into me. Is it weird that I miss the high speed of my past life and my high functional anxiety? Oh sweet anxiety, where did you go? Cymbalta out here really doing the most!

Speaking of doing the most, I forgot to share the cool news with you all that this week my position at work was reclassified and I was promoted to Senior Communications Specialist for the library! Slow clap for me. I celebrate seven long years in my position this June 15 to be exact. I started my job a week and a day after my 23rd birthday. It was my first job out of college, the job that I thought I would only stay at for a year or two to get my feet wet. I was such a little peasant. I knew nothing and thought I knew it all. Now I realize I know very little in this big world. Here I am, moving on up, securing the bag, and still loving what I do, which feels rare to say. It is so wonderful to feel validated and valued in what I do and what I bring to the table. Life has interesting timing.

In celebration, I am allowing myself all the cat naps and orange chicken for dinner. This is how adults celebrate good news, I guess.

Today’s song lyric of the day is brought to you by Ashley O (aka Miley Cyrus!)

“Hey, yeah, whoa-ho, I’m on a roll
Ridin’ so high, achieving my goals

I’m stoked on ambition and verve
I’m gonna get what I deserve”

– On A Roll – DallasK Remix, Ashley O, DallasK

Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): Today I got my second to last growth factor shot in my stomach. One left! But don’t confuse that with my hormone blocker. Those are still monthly, with the potential of going every three months for the next five years. Boo. I also got a call to have a consult with with a doctor next Friday in radiation. *Squeak* I think the extra fluids are the secret to my success following chemo. I truly believe they are making my recovery times more manageable!

TO THE SHORT VERSION!

There are a lot of things in motion right now that I am excited to share with you all VERY SOON. I am guessing like next week? I have mentioned something in a previous post, so die hard blog readers already know. I just have to say that I might be a little loca in the head for doing what I am doing right now as I receive treatment. But I love a challenge. I also have some bigger post topics I am working on to research so I know what I am talking about. I have requests for blog posts on the costs of cancer treatments, intersectionality in healthcare and health equity, what is in my chemo bag, and how to receive help/love while still giving and how that lightens burdens without fixing them. There are some big topics in that list that will take some time for me to find how I want to approach them. I realize I am not an expert, do not claim to be, and several of these topics could be thesis papers. I simply want to have posts that breach the topics and expose you all to new ways to approaching and thinking about the every day experiences of those around us.

Today was a day full of connection and rest. I spent time with a couple visitors, got my shot, and started a new tradition of getting my special pancakes from Denny’s with my mom and sister after my shot. Cancer sucks, but feeling so loved and supported by so many of you has made this moment in my life easier to digest and endure. Don’t get me wrong, on the days I am having good days (like today) things are still fucking hard in their own way. I am still only a fraction of myself, but these days are easier to stomach and I am grateful for science and love and those around me to lift me up. Thank you for being here with me. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

I have a consult with my radiation doctors next Friday! I am curious to learn more about radiation since I haven’t been told a lot about it other than I will receive around six weeks of treatment following my double mastectomy. There is so much that goes into treating cancer that the moment I think I know what is going on, I realize I know nothing at all. Thank goodness I love learning!

Today’s song lyric of the day is brought to you by Jack Johnson.

“Maybe we could sleep in
Make you banana pancakes
Pretend like its the weekend now
We could pretend it all the time
Can’t you see that it’s just rainin’
There ain’t no need to go outside”

– Banana Pancakes, Jack Johnson

Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): Today was my third chemo in hell with the red devil and it was ~extra~ hellish mainly because Harry Porter and the Prisoner of Cancerban (aka my port) was being very uncooperative. I survived chemo, got a shit ton of fluids in, and we have one red devil chemo left! Tomorrow is my growth factor stomach shot and I get to sail off into the sunset until April 28 for my final delightful red devil.

TO THE LONG VERSION!

Today I smelled 48 beach balls. That is a lot of beach balls! This means my port was flushed 48 times and my normal average is generally under ten at an appointment. I am feeling extra hydrated and tired because Harry Porter and the Prisoner of Cancerban decided to be a little bitch today and not produce good blood return. Actually, it was not producing ANY blood at all. It was a fucking day. Let’s explain for all of you cancer muggles.

My first appointment on a chemo day is visiting my favorites to get my blood drawn and get my IV ready for chemo. My blood nurse today was my nurse who gave me my dreaded hormone blocker with such ease. Her name is Hanan. I hope I got the spelling right. I have a little bit of chemo brain right now. She’s great. I was excited to see her and ready to get the show on the road. First comes the Capri Sun style stabbing of Harry Porter. Don’t worry, I lather it in lidocaine and get special numbing spray to ensure no needle pain. Pop goes the weasel, get the IV set up, and we flush the port with saline to ensure it is all clean. This is a pretty standard practice that we do after each blood draw and several times during chemo. Generally, I get around like ten or less flushes during my stay. They always taste like the essence of super plastic-y salty beach balls. You know like the La Croix soda? It is like that kind of essence.

So once a flush is done, we try to lure the blood out. We are secretly vampires. They push another saline in, and pull (not sure what it is called??) the part that injected the saline out and it is supposed to draw blood into the tube, but mine did not. I mean, it did a little bit but not enough to do a blood draw. What did come out was thiccc and reminded me of the last squeeze of ketchup. I have had a couple flushes before to lure blood out and that has generally worked, but today that did not. The number of port flushes continued to climb. I was asked to dance, raise my hands above my head like I just don’t care, squat, massage my boobs, and bend over to touch my toes. I was like an extra in a fucking Usher song. At this point I had an audience. Everyone loves an energetic cancer patient and a dance party. My first nurse’s hands were getting tired, so we recruited another nurse to try a few flushes. Three other nurses were watching and then I had my emotional support human and my cancer center friend there cheering me on. It was lit.

Around port flush 25, I took a lap with my two cancer besties around the building. Still fucking nothing came out. We took a break so I could do my urine sample, but another patient was using the bathroom and taking forever so I got called back for more flushes and a small threat of “If we can’t get this to work, we will need to go for your arm.” I was getting mad at Harry Porter because this little port is supposed to save me needles going into places I have not pre-approved! Expecto patronum, bitch. I only approve stomach needles now! After the threat, I went to the bathroom to produce a healthy sample of urine. I sat down and what do you know? We got fucking blood! Arm poke avoided….for now.

I was well over 30 port flushes at that point and 50 minutes beyond my appointment time and I had a feeling this was not the end of that tale. I was on time for my oncology appointment, had a great talk with the nurse practitioner, and got news that my tumor is turning mobile! That is GREAT news. This means it is detaching from the tissues and getting smaller. Love that journey for me.

Today was my first day decorating my chemo pod. We put up my new “crying is cool” banner and watermelon lights on my IV pole. So cute. I was the cutest pod in the ward today. Because my blood work took forever to acquire, it delayed my whole day. My blood work results had not come back so I had to wait since we cannot get the chemo drugs until we show I am good to poison again. We stole several snacks today and got lots of time to watch the stupid snow fall and instantly melt on the ground. I also got to see all of my favorite nurses today including Hot Nurse Megan, Megan #2 and Rachel (my favorite duo!), and befriended my new nurse friend Linda. Let me tell you all of the nurses are amazing and my favorites, but this little group…. ah just love so much. I felt like the luckiest little cancer patient today, minus the port issues.

Of course blood return was a bitch to do again for the red devil, so I did a similar routine to earlier. Luckily it was not nearly as exhausting as earlier since I ended up going to the restroom and came back and boom! Blood! Something about peeing is working? Chemo itself was a breeze and by the time we ended, I peed again, got blood return once more, and a final port flush. We ended the day strong with 48 port flushes. I wonder if that is a new daily record? I love setting new records. Honestly, you had to be there to believe it. And every flush is a fucking salty little beach ball.

Hanan had joked earlier in the day that my insurance gets charged for every flush I do. I didn’t realize it was a joke until later on. I cannot imagine if insurance was charged (or patients without insurance!) were charged because sometimes you just have a bad day with your port. Most ports are installed on the right side of the body since it produces better blood return given the placement and how blood is transferred in your body, but the cancer is in my right breast, thus the port on the left. The left side can be trickier and also sometimes a sheath or something can get stuck in the port causing it to block blood return. We think this might be the case and next time I will be given a drug of some sort to dissolve that and hopefully get things running more smoothly. Fingers crossed.

I did get extra fluids today and so far I am feeling similar to round two of the red devil. I am hopeful that the extra fluids and random port flushes today are my key to success. I am already peeing mostly regular colored urine and not red, so things seem promising. I feel tired from the excitement and I literally talked to my nurses all day, so I cannot wait to sleep.

Three red devils down! One to fucking go on April 28! Tomorrow we have a growth factor shot in my stomach and then I am a free chicken for two weeks. 13 chemos left.

What else should I decorate my chemo pod with???

Today’s song lyric of the day is brought to you by Usher. Fuck yeah!

“If you hold the head steady, I’ma milk the cow (yeah!)
And forget about game, I’ma spit the truth (what?)
I won’t stop ’til I get ’em in they birthday suit (yeah!)
So gimme the rhythm and it’ll be off with their clothes
Then bend over to the front and touch your toes”

– Yeah! (feat. Lil Jon & Ludacris), Usher, Lil Jon, Ludacris