Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): Last night I got my hair cut short in preparation of losing my hair, as recommended by my oncologist. It will make losing my hair a less aggressive experience. I also experienced chemo induced nausea for the first time during my hair cut and that was a fucking nightmare. Today I received my first growth factor injection and overall I was able to manage most of my side effects today. I would call today a “good post-chemo day.” I do have dry mouth though and that is annoying as hell.

TO THE LONG VERSION!

“OH MY FUCK. You’re a rockstar! (fire emoji) What did I say?! Dopest most beautiful poison infused human (heart eyes emoji, sparkles emoji)” – A great text from a friend reviewing my new ~hottie rainbow~ hair cut.

I have no fears losing my hair at this point, except for my eyebrows and eyelashes. My eyelashes receive a lot of compliments and I have a feeling I will look like a confused raccoon without them. But other than that, I do look forward to looking like a naked mole rat for a while. Based on the turbans and wigs I got from the resource center at the cancer center yesterday, I will look decent. Not to mention all the wig hookups from my friends. Bless. One less thing to worry about.

Speaking of worries, let’s talk about the insane amount of weird nausea I had last night. I forgot to tell you all that the red devil chemo makes my pee turn red. If you want to see that, you have to text me for that photo since I am not sure everyone wants to see red urine. That is a consent-only request. It is kind of cool though. Satan’s Kool Aid coming out of me. Or you can try it for yourself with beet juice. Less toxic. I did that once during my big juicing phase. Purple pee is a fun surprise you should try once in your life!

I was sitting in the barber chair chatting with my friend who cut my hair for me and I seriously was concerned about what was going to happen next. Would I vomit? Would I puke? Would both ends be never ending streams of fluids in this innocent barber shop? I could not leave a toxic mess for my friend. That also would be just horrific and scarring for all involved. We took several breaks so I could ride the waves of nausea but holy fucking shit. Supposedly I will continue to get worse with side effects for the next week until Thursday and then be on the up and up until I enter round two. Wash, rinse, repeat. Honestly, how do I get much worse than last night? I don’t even want to fucking know! It felt like a bad flu or COVID and a hangover combined. I wanted to die. And if you had the OG COVID like I did, that COVID sucked hard.

Zofran did save the day, though! The moment I got home, I took my meds and 20 minutes later I was a lot better. Sleeping was less than ideal. The steroids I am on will cause me to have insomnia or poor sleep. I woke up every couple of hours thinking I had to get up to work, but it was really only 1:30 am. And I didn’t work today. What a mess. I woke up feeling rather normal. I took my new round of meds (a steroid, Claritin, anxiety, and Zofran) this morning and made it through today without any real side effects aside from general fatigue and a dry mouth.

The only real hard part of today was the shot in my stomach for the growth factor to spur white blood cells. My anxiety meds did their job and I had zero anxiety going to the appointment. The nurse bundled up some of my skin next to my belly button, sprayed the numbing spray, and stabbed me. I didn’t really feel the needle until she pulled it out and the medicine spread out. That was uncomfortable, but I was good to go five minutes later and took a short cat nap in the car on the way home. Nice.

My favorite highlight of today was connecting with a friend who is a breast cancer thriver. Same diagnosis and treatment plan as me, except BRACA 1 and 2 negative. It was amazing to hear her story and have someone to ask questions freely. We shared tears and laughs and rage and it was a space I hope I can create for someone else someday who might need it. The biggest take away for me is that cancer is often portrayed as this event in your life and you move on. Cancer is life transforming. It is catastrophic. That experience is with you forever. My treatment will last for at least five years beyond the day I am declared cancer free. Cancer will determine my medical care for at least the next 10 years, if not longer, if I do test positive for BRCA1. I will require a hysterectomy by the time I am 40. There is life beyond cancer of course, but it is not the life I had 25 days ago and it never will be again. Ever.

The worst part of today is that I have sad news to share with you all. I announced yesterday that my parosmia is gone. For the most part, I truly believe it is. Some of my really hard trigger foods are still not amazing, but they definitely do not have the COVID smell. However… the chemo taste has replaced the COVID taste. These are very distinct experiences. Having COVID parosmia for a year has been a huge learning curve, but I have been able to adapt and create plans around it. Now things are even more unpredictable. I literally thought of fucking broccoli in the car today and I thought I was going to vomit. THE THOUGHT OF BROCCOLI WAS SO BAD I WANTED TO PUKE. And I literally have not had broccoli in a year. Now I am thinking about broccoli and it is less scary but I am still annoyed. Chemo is also suppressing my appetite. I want to eat, but nothing sounds great. Honestly, I would rather have parosmia than deal with chemo taste and smell issues. I know, you’re shook I am saying this but if today is an indication of how this is going to turn on me, I want off this ride. Fuck this shit. Long story short, getting me food is now a shitty thing that I cannot even give you directions for anymore. Fuck. Sorry.

Also, I would like to start a petition for better Wi-Fi service in the chemo ward. I couldn’t even get on my blog yesterday to type about what was happening to me! That is a real problem. Sure, I can be disconnected during that time. It might be good for me, but I mean… I want the option or at least for my friends and family who come with me to have the option to be entertained while I am a zombie. I chatted with my friend at the foundation and personally told them I will interview the IT department so that we can solve this problem for all future patients. Yeah sure I can download my Netflix shows ahead of time, but what if I don’t download the right one or I want to watch something different and I enter chemo rage?! We don’t want that, especially given how much time I have to spend there.

One final note. I want to find like simple decor I can pack in my chemo bag so I can make my chemo pods festive and then pull the decor down when I leave. Maybe a cute banner from Target? Something funny from Etsy like “Crying Is Cool” or “This Party Is Shit.” I heard you could put Christmas lights on the IV machine. Might as well make my time there fun and exciting.

Chemo countdown: One of four red devils complete. Three to go. Fifteen rounds of chemo in total left until I get to RING THAT CHEMO BELL. I hope it is a cow bell. We need more cow bell.

Today’s song lyric of the day is brought to you by Lady Gaga (again.) I blared this on my way to my hair cut in tears.

“I just wanna be myself, and I want you to love me for who I am
I just wanna be myself, and I want you to know
I am my hair

I’ve had enough, this is my prayer
That I’ll die living just as free as my hair”

– Hair, Lady Gaga

Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): The red devil is in me. Along with other drugs. Somehow this day has been the best day of my life and the worst day of my life at the same time because I have amazing news to share. I am going to make you read this post if you want to hear it. Please read it. It is worth your time. Or I mean I am assuming that it is? According to Olive Garden, when you’re here, you’re family. By default that means you care.

TO THE LONG VERSION!

“Oh, right. The poison. The poison for Kuzco, the poison chosen especially to kill Kuzco, Kuzco’s poison. That poison?”

Replace Kuzco’s name with my name and remove the kill part and call me a new character in “The Emperor’s New Groove.” I love that movie. Top five Disney movies for sure. I want to say that I screamed at the nurse to “Pull the lever, Kronk!” as she injected the red devil into Harry Porter and the Prisoner of Cancerban but I actually was crying. I realized as she injected me that I have crossed the barrier between talking about having cancer to dealing with cancer. That emotion overwhelmed me. The act of receiving chemotherapy is relatively painless. It is the side effects and all the other dramatic pieces that come with recovering between rounds that are my biggest fears now. And the fucking new needles I have to encounter. Fuck.

Random photo intermission!

My first needle is one I talked about in a post from two days ago. That is my growth factor injection. That injection will help in the production of “healthy” white blood cells. Going to link you here for more information for now about that. Those will happen 24 hours after my first four rounds of chemo. I will go to the cancer center, tell them in my chirpiest voice to “fuck me up, fam” and they will give me a subcutaneous injection in my fucking stomach. Gross. Now, on the off chance you talk with other breast cancer thrivers, they might inform you that they got the luxury of taking their needle home with them and administering this injection “themselves.” I guess there is an option for a needle and balloon type situation and you trigger the needle to go off and it does a slow release over 45 minutes or something. But my insurance is refusing to cover it (it is like 20k or something absurd) and this injection is at the discount rate of 7k. Don’t quote me on prices. I am just re-sharing what my nurse told me today. The gross part is insurance can approve it if they want (the more expensive option) but looks like they aren’t. My care is at their mercy. What kind of fucked up nonsense is that? I have fucking cancer. Also the price differences make me laugh. I love a deal but is this a good deal? I will get three of those only during the red devil rounds so I won’t need them when I go weekly.

We need healthcare reform, folks.

The other needle… gosh that is a hot mess. I haven’t talked about fertility preservation conversations much in my blog because it has been something I have not been able to emotionally conceptualize yet. But I have to soon since it is going to impact me right now. I will have to receive an injection IN MY ASS ONCE A MONTH FOR THE NEXT FIVE FUCKING YEARS. I bolded this for a reason. It is a hormone blocker designed to make my ovaries go mimis (aka sleep that is a fun word in Spanish for you.) I will be in a chemically induced menopausal state and will get to enjoy menopause symptoms at the bright and fun age of 29. Such luxury. I have the option to start this now with chemo or I can wait after chemo and do it then. I have no idea what I am going to select but damn it is just one fucking horrible choice after another.

In my ass. Really? Could it not be somewhere else???

If you can’t tell, we are still on the bad news part of the day. One more piece of bad news and then I promise that what I am going to tell you is a fucking gift that chemo decided I needed. Okay so… I mentioned that I got my scans back and there were some concerns in my imaging that I needed to talk to my oncologist about before I shared with you all. They found something in my spine in my lower back. A lil round hard boi. Super small, but you know it is there. There is a chance that it could be cancer, but my oncologist believes it is something else. I have an MRI scheduled the day before my second round of therapy on March 30 at 6:30 am (ew…) to learn more about what the fuck my back is doing. Piece of shit.

Okay you have made it this far so let’s share the most fucking amazing news I could possibly share in this fucking shit storm hellish space. I ordered enchiladas poblanas from Mexico Lindo (um these enchiladas are the shit if you love mole sauce) and their frijoles are ~chef’s kiss.~ So like yeah I want this. It is a meal that is parosmia friendly and I just want to feel comforted by delicious beans. I have been ordering them with beef as my protein because beef is something that doesn’t taste totally nasty to me still, but a slight COVID taste. It is tolerable. Anyway, it shows up and I take a few bites and the beef…. what is this…. tastes normal??? No, that cannot be. I have parosmia. I take a few more bites. “Normal.”

Wut.

I get up and taste my mom’s chicken and onions and the salsa…. THE SALSA. It does not taste like DIRT. I run to my fridge and taste the cold brew from the store. The tears are starting to form. My mom is confused, wondering if I am sad because I am wrong or if I am right. I am full blown melt down mode as the bag of lettuce slips from my hands and the lettuce hangs from my mouth. Who knew you could be so emotional over lettuce???

My one year anniversary with parosmia was next week. I made it a whole fucking year eating the bare minimum to survive. I made it. And now I have to do this other really hard thing. Parosmia was hard. I cannot even begin to describe the emotional and physical toll I felt. Now, chemo does fuck with your taste buds. There is still a chance that this cool thing has happened to make room for a new bad thing to happen. I am going to manifest it now and say I AM FUCKING CURED AND HAVE TASTED METALLIC THINGS FOR A YEAR AND DON’T NEED ANOTHER SIX MONTHS.

Boom. Manifested.

I am so tired right now. I have more to share, but maybe tomorrow. Ya girl needs a nap. Don’t forget to drink your water and check your boobies!!!

Today’s song lyric of the day is brought to you by IDLES. A friend sent me this song and I figured it might be a good song for today’s shit show haha.

“I am I and I intend to go, go, go
Like Frida Kahlo painting of the poor on your fuck off wall
Like Tracey Emin in her unmade bed listening to The Fall
Like Flava Flav in the club riding on the back of John Wayne
Like David Attenborough clubbing seal clubbers with LeBron James”

– Mr. Motivator, IDLES

Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): T-minus one day until my first round of chemo. Less than that, actually. Like 12 hours as I write this. Fuck. I am feeling all the feels while preparing for something I don’t even think I can prepare for. I had a beautiful day connecting with so many wonderful people in my life and allowing myself to be loved. Now I just hope I can get some sleep.

TO THE (NOT SO LONG) LONG VERSION!

I’ve never felt this loved in my life. Ever. Simultaneously, I have never felt more alone and isolated. Cancer is like being placed in an escape room by yourself. The room is made of glass. Everyone is watching me and shouting clues and yelling and cheering, but this is something I have to endure alone. Nobody can join me in my body to fight with me. Even then, a lot of this fight is out of my hands. It is solely dependent upon my body and the chemo I receive. I trust science. I trust my doctors. But nothing in this moment makes me feel okay about what is to come.

I need you as a reader to be okay with what I said. I love you. I love the support you’ve given me, in whatever ways you’ve been able to show up for me during this chapter of my life. Know I am grateful beyond any words I can say at this time. There are so many of you I want to shower in thank you notes and love and hugs and remind you of how important you are in my life. But also know I hold space for both things to coexist for myself right now: gratitude and deep despair. My worst nightmares are my reality. I am descending into my personal hell for a moment, or for at least eight weeks. Maybe the full twenty. I don’t know. Don’t worry, I promise I will leave victorious, but this is where I have to be to do the things I need to survive.

This is a day I will probably remember forever. Realizing so many people in so many different seasons of my life are ready to support me through this journey is a blessing I cannot even describe. Thank you for showing up. Thank you for being here. Thank you for caring about me. I am having a really hard time writing this post tonight. There aren’t words. Just silence.

Let’s just sit here together, just a moment longer.

Today’s song lyric of the day is brought to you by Adele. I know I already did an Adele song, but this…. this hits hard tonight.

“Let me photograph you in this light
In case it is the last time
That we might be exactly like we were
Before we realized
We were scared of getting old
It made us restless
It was just like a movie
It was just like a song

When we were young”

– When We Were Young, Adele

Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): I met with some WONDERFUL nurses today to review my treatment plan and tour the lovely chemo ward at the cancer center. The snack bar I was excited to see was sad for me because of my parosmia. I can only drink the juices, according to my current conditions. There is a lot of information for me to sift through, but I will share what I think you all want to know right now. T-minus two days until my first round of chemo. Rip.

TO THE LONG VERSION!

You know a drug is bad when the nickname for it is “the red devil.” I have entered a special place in hell that has lots of poison and the sweetest humans giving you the poison. Hell would be twisted like that. You think you are having a good time and then two days later you’re puking in your bathroom and having to flush twice because your poops are toxic. Let’s talk ~chemo cocktails!~

On Thursday, I undergo my first round of chemotherapy. I have a total of four rounds over the course of the next eight weeks. I will receive treatment every other week. Rounds one through four contain two drugs: adriamycin and cytoxan, also known as A/C or the street name “the red devil,” specifically referring to adriamycin because it is like red Kool-Aid and it is gnarly. These drugs aim to do one thing: fuck with cancer. And also fuck with your body because they are already there why would they only hang out with the cancer??? These drugs are the reason I will lose my hair, roughly at the two and a half week mark (among other potential side effects.) I am going zero to sixty so fast. There is no “testing the waters” so to say with these drugs. I dive right in with big doses and I was told I should see reduction of my tumor size by the time I hit my weekly chemo’s. I am looking forward to feeling my tumor shrink but sad that my only party trick of getting people to touch my boob will eventually stop. (This is a joke if you don’t know me that well.)

Random tangent that is not that random: Remember that weird needle countdown I was working on? Well surprise surprise motherfuckers. I should NEVER assume that just because I have a port now that I am not seeing a needle go elsewhere in my body. I am an idiot. The day after every red devil appointment, I will have to come in for a special injection of pegfilgrastim. This little drug is essentially a growth factor used to stimulate the growth of “healthy” white blood cells in the bone marrow. White blood cells help the body to fight infection. So now we can add at least four needles into my countdown. Those will be injected subcutaneously into my stomach. They tried to sooth me with the fact that the needle is small but yo… that is still a needle in my stomach. I cannot be soothed!

Okay so after me and the red devil do a little dancing in Georgia (lol I had to say it), I will move to weekly chemos for twelve weeks. This is where we introduce Taxol, our final drug! Taxol comes with its own lovely side effects and will be infused titrated during my appointments. This one is less scary than the red devil combo and I should be a bit more functional. I can go into more detail about that in the future FAQ post because honestly it is 9:30 pm at night and I need to sleep.

But there is a final needle I need to mention: Needle number 5 (not to be confused with Mambo No. 5.) That is the needle to put my ovaries “to sleep.” Now… initially my oncologist casually brought this up during my initial consultation with her. She made it seem like it was just this very easy event blah blah blah. NO. I asked my nurses about it today and they said there was nothing on order for me right now, but if I wanted that I should ask my oncologist. Essentially, this shot is like VERY painful, gets injected into your stomach, and some sort of pellet is dropped inside of you to help your ovaries sleep during chemo. Like fuck. Things are already hard. Why does everything have to involve needles?? Why????? More on that later, probably.

I received a shit ton of information that will inform the FAQ page I will work on this week since it is too much for this single post, but the most important piece of information I saw was on my chemotherapy education sheet. There was a section that said, “The goals of my chemotherapy treatment are (circle one): Palliative / Curative.” They had circled “curative.” I cannot wait to ring those bells and say I am cancer’s fucking worst nightmare, that I defeated the red devil, and I am cancer free.

Today’s song lyric of the day is brought to you by Elvis Presley. Chemo look like an angel, walk like an angel, and turns out to be just a red devil. Sike!

“You look like an angel (look like an angel)
Walk like an angel (walk like an angel)
Talk like an angel
But I got wise

You’re the devil in disguise
Oh, yes, you are, devil in disguise”

– (You’re The) Devil In Disguise, Elvis Presley

Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): Happy three week anniversary to discovering the cancer in my body! I know my schedule for my first five rounds of chemo and that is a nice relief. I meet with a nurse or someone very important to learn all about my treatment tomorrow at 4 pm. If you have a question you think I should get answered, please leave them in the comments section! I am curious to see what you all want to know. These will be used to inform the future FAQ page. T-minus three days until my first round of chemo. Rip.

TO THE LONG VERSION!

The joy of my day was seeing my first five rounds of chemo loaded into MyChart. (It is the small things in life, my friends. I am very easy to impress.) I immediately logged all of my upcoming appointments into my Google calendar. Gosh I love a well organized, color coded calendar. Sometimes I just open my calendar to look at my handy work. Organization is a skill I have learned that not everyone has the talent for and I take it very seriously. There have been times in my life where there has been very little on my calendar and let me tell you, I go out of my way to fill it up. My calendar needs to look like a rainbow vomited everywhere. Being busy is one of my favorite activities until it burns me out and I have no time to watch “The Office” for the hundredth time. I know I will have a lot of free time soon, though. Cannot wait to binge season two of “Bridgerton” during chemo.

In a way, chemo feels like a gift of time. It is helping fight the cancer in my body to give me more time on this planet. It is also giving me time to watch a shit ton of Netflix so I won’t be the odd one out in convos about what people are watching these days. You know me, I don’t sit very well and now I am forced to sit for hours at a time while poisons enter my body and kill my cells. Segue into my excellent chemo schedule! Someone in the universe heard my pleas for my chemo sessions to be on Thursday’s. I didn’t even get the opportunity to ask or request they be on a Thursday and THEY ARE ON THURSDAY’S! Yay me! The universe handed me a small win. Note: For brevity, I am only including the date, time of chemo, and duration of the appointment since every time I go in I will have to go like two hours early for blood work and a meeting with my oncologist.

Thursday, March 17 – Round #1: 9:15 am chemo that will last 3.5 hours

Thursday, March 31 – Round #2: 3:30 pm chemo that will last 2.5 hours

Thursday, April 14 – Round #3: 10 am chemo that will last 2.5 hours

Thursday, April 28 – Round #4: 9 am chemo that will last 2.5 hours

Thursday, May 12 – Round #5: 11 am chemo that will last 3.75 hours

I am not sure if round five is the start of my weekly appointments or not because I was told I will have sixteen rounds in total. They only have me booked out for the first five rounds in MyChart for now. Let’s hope I can keep Thursday’s because it is just what I was hoping for!

Lol. I hope for these things now.

If you’re interested in sitting in at a chemo appointment, let me know! I look forward to showing you around. I heard there are snacks there. We need to find out what kind of snacks. Good snacks, I hope.

Today’s song lyric of the day is brought to you by 4 Non Blondes. Sometimes I literally wake up and this song is in my brain, which was the case this morning.

“And so I wake in the morning and I step outside
And I take a deep breath and I get real high
And I scream from the top of my lungs
“What’s going on?”

– What’s Up?, 4 Non Blondes

Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post: T-minus four days until the first round of chemo. I spent the day trying to rest (ha… what is rest?) and prepare my list of questions for my oncology team. Look for an FAQ page focused on all things diagnosis and treatment soon!

TO THE LONG VERSION!

Can you remember something you’ve done that you didn’t realize you were doing for the last time? I saw that thought on a meme once. It was focused on realizing that there was day when you were a kid playing outside for the last time and you didn’t know it. Oof. That meme fucked me up and it is fucking me up right now as I prepare for chemo. Are there things I am doing for the last time and don’t know it?

I know my life technically isn’t ending, but sometimes cancer plays mind tricks on you. I don’t want to mean “FOR THE LAST TIME” in a morbid way but in the sense that there are things I may never do again or may never experience again. Like for me, having two breasts that are my own is something I won’t have soon. The boobs I have carried with me over the last 29 years will one day be removed. Thanks cancer. You’re a real gem. I am trying not to think about that too much right now because that feels like being at the bottom of Everest, not even training for Everest, and suddenly someone is like, “Whether you live or die depends on you climbing to the top of Everest.” You don’t know how you will get there or why this ultimatum landed in your lap, but you guess you’re doing it?

I had that “Is this the last time?” feeling today when I went to Body Pump at the gym. I wondered when I would get to go back to class. Will I get to go back ever? I mean, I don’t want something to go wrong in treatment (fingers crossed) but something could. I really tried to enjoy myself. I felt strong, but I was simultaneously wondering who in the room knew I had cancer?? Did they suddenly see me squatting as extra God-like strength even though it was almost my regular weight? I don’t think anyone was thinking about me in that way during pump, but I felt like telling everyone in the room that I was still a normal 29 year old despite the weird ass tumors growing in my breast and lymph nodes. No big deal. I have the weirdest thoughts now.

I began my fitness journey seven years ago with one of my college roommates. We started casually lifting together in the mornings and she was really into running so I tried to get into running, too. I have always HATED running but I really tried to enjoy it and I started on the treadmills at the gym. Running on treadmills is weird. You literally are moving and going nowhere at the same time. Running was really cool to explore until I took an arrow to the knee. Just kidding. I got tendonitis in BOTH of my knees. At the same fucking time. All from running with poor technique and poor shoe support. Lesson learned. That was the first blip in my fitness journey. I wanted to just stop exercising all together. I was trying to exercise to improve my health and in turn I ended up hurting myself in a different way. What kind of crap is that?? The other blips are less impressive. Strained back muscle. Some weird wrist stuff. Stress fracture in my foot. Fatigue caused from COVID. And now cancer.

I worry about how chemo may impact my ability to stay active. It will be my longest health issue to date. I talked about in a previous post about how I bought a new weight set. I bought it to make exercise more accessible during treatment and less germy than the gym but there is a chance I may not have the energy to care for myself in that way. Gosh I really want to be able to keep some of my hard earned muscles. I lost so much of my quad strength during the lock down and when I was sick with COVID. I have been slowly regaining it back and it makes me a little depressed that my body might take another critical hit. I know I have bigger things to worry about, but exercise has been a wonderful and beautiful experience for both my mental and physical health. I’ve enjoyed seeing myself blossom in that way. I have loved learning that I am stronger than I think.

As the countdown to round one of chemo shortens, my days of exercising feel like they are coming to an end. Or at least coming to an end in the way I currently operate. I hope these final days are not my last days of exercise. Maybe I will be able to exercise, just not six days a week. Maybe I go down in weights and that is okay. Maybe I am not lifting but I am walking more or running as the weather improves. Who knows? There are a lot of unknowns in how my body will respond to chemo. Half of me wants Thursday to be here now so I can know exactly how my body is going to respond and adjust my life accordingly. That clearly is the planner in me. The other half is holding on to my pre-chemo self for as long as possible because I know I will never be the same again.

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

“What a world that I’m living in
Will the rainstorms ever end?
Still I feel my
Path narrow, I run again
Seem happiness is gone again
Then you see ’em
Grey clouds up above man
Metaphor to my life man”

– Sky Might Fall, Kid Cudi

Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): I start chemo on Thursday, March 17 in the morning. Chemo is after my lucky charms! If you haven’t read the post from 3/11, please do that before proceeding. This post is focused on the #1 question I am getting right now: “How can I help?”

TO THE (NOT SO LONG) LONG VERSION!

It is 6 am on a Saturday morning. I can’t sleep but I don’t mind being awake at this hour. I am an early riser anyways. The birds are singing. My cats are causing havoc as they impatiently wait for their breakfast because I am the #1 provider of warmth and moist pâté and why be calm when you can be annoying??? There is a kind peace 6 am can bring that doesn’t happen in any other hour of the day. In moments like these, I believe I will be okay.

I have been flooded with texts with different iterations of “How can I help?” That question feels like a blanket of comfort, but it also has been overwhelming because it is hard right now to know what future me will need. Hugs and snacks, probably. I’ve never done this cancer thing before haha! Well, that is a lie. I did with my mom but I guess I am on the other side of this now. I appreciate everyone’s patience as I try to find answers for you to that question. I know I will have more to share next week but here is a short list of what can help right now:

1. If you have breasts, check them. Please. Stop what you are doing and do a self exam. Ask your doctors questions during your yearly exams on what to look for in a self exam. Ask your loved ones about disease and cancer in your family. I know this is an unpleasant conversation but having that information could make an impact on your healthcare down the road. I am not wanting to induce paranoia that you will get breast cancer (or any cancer) and maybe I am projecting my experience a bit on you all, but I have realized so many of us don’t do self exams at home. Let’s stay proactive together!
2. I have amazing friends who have already stepped up and set the foundations for providing care and additional support for me during my treatment. Yes, there will be a meal train at some point that a friend is leading. That link is to come.

– Miles For Madi: A Facebook group established by one of my childhood friends. This is her fundraiser for the month of March centered around running. It also sounds like she is putting together some raffle baskets! Click on that underlined link to find her Facebook group to learn more or search on Facebook, “Miles For Madi.”

– Amazon wishlist: Two of my wonderful friends have helped me establish an Amazon wish list of items that will help me endure treatment. This list will continue to grow as they help me identify my needs. Click on the underlined text to see the list.

3. Continue to text me! I may be slow to respond, but I do promise I get your messages and read them and then promptly cry.

4. MARK YOUR CALENDARS! TELL A FRIEND! I will be co-hosting with my amazing friend Sue a special celebration for my 30 birthday on Friday, June 17 from 4-10 pm at The Space in Richland. Put it in your phone right meow! I really hope I will be able to go to my own party but if not, YOU WILL GO FOR ME and it will be amazing and cool and you will see all the people and buy all the art. I will have more details soon but this will be a fundraiser for a local foundation (TBA) and will feature art from all of my favorite local art friends. If you’re interested in having a piece in this special show, please text me/DM me on your favorite social media platform.

5. The mask mandate has lifted and I would like to ask if you are planning to see me over the course of the next several months to please wear a mask around me. My immune system will be very compromised and I honestly would love to avoid getting COVID again (because lol I am still a fucking long hauler in all of this chaos) or any other terrible illness that could delay or make treatment more difficult. I want to get this shit over with. Please do not visit me if you are sick. Please don’t toss all of your masks and hold on to a few so you can see me safely. I will hopefully have a few at my house for you just in case you show up and forget. 🙂

I really struggled with sharing this information. I really hope it doesn’t come off as being vain or that you have to help me. You showing up in any way you want to on this journey is more than I could ever ask for. Even texting me and making sure I am not in a doom cloud is help. I realize these are challenging times for so many of us with our mental health and our finances and the world feels like it is a never ending shitstorm. I deeply appreciate from the bottom of my little soul every ounce of energy you all have shared with me over the past 3 weeks. Thank you thank you thank you.

Today’s song lyric of the day is brought to you by Tujamo. This song is what I love to blare in my car when I am on my way to Badger Mountain to run the shit out of the trail.

“Keep pushing on, things are gonna get better
It won’t take long, keep on moving to the top
Keep on move it, move it
Gotta keep on move it to the top
Keep on pushing, pushing”

– Keep Pushin’, Tujamo (feat. Inaya Day)

Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): Welcome to Scan Friday! I had a CT scan, a bone scan, and an echo on my heart. Results are in and I need to discuss with my doctor some things I saw in my chart that seem a bit concerning (unrelated to my cancer diagnosis) but I got the call and I start chemo on Thursday, March 17 in the morning, around 9 am ish. I will meet with a nurse on Tuesday, March 15 to discuss my treatment and go over final details.

TO THE LONG VERSION!

For the record, I hate QR codes. If you’re my friend, you’ve seen my rants on Twitter and Instagram. You saw my rage during the Superbowl when the QR code bounced across the screen in that dumb commercial. If you’re my lucky co-workers, you’ve seen me rage quit at my desk over them. The technology is amazing but the implementation and lack of understanding by every day citizens (I would include myself in this category) on the functionality of QR codes is rampant. But I digress. You’re not here for that. I just felt like a QR code today when I was getting my scans, but a QR code that I like and feel is useful. Technology was reading my body to inform my medical team. I was both anxious and amazed at the experience.

The morning started with a visit to the nuclear medicine ward for my injection of tracers for my bone scan. The moment I heard “injection,” I offered up Harry Porter and the Prisoner of Cancerban aka my port! (Yes! I settled on a name!) I really tried to joke with the nurses but they weren’t really interested in my humor today. I was sad. I didn’t get to tell anyone the name of my port except for my emotional support human I brought with me. She laughed. She likes my dumb puns. My first Capri Sun stabbing into my port was a success!!! I made sure to numb it up real good with my lidocaine cream and I literally felt nothing as the little needle made contact. I also got special numbing spray. I felt VIP.

After my injection, I was escorted to my CT scan. They kept the needle in my port so I could receive contrast for that scan and potentially something different for the echo. CT scans are way shorter than MRI’s which is great. I got to experience the contrast injection that makes you feel like you’re peeing yourself. I didn’t actually get that sensation. It felt more like a first shot of tequila on a completely empty stomach. You feel the warmth rush to your head and then it spreads all of your body. Then they flushed my port and for a small second my mouth tasted like the essence of a plastic beach ball. Like you know when you are blowing it up? The salt is in the air and your toes are in the sand. And that ball is in your mouth and it is weirdly gross and nostalgic. I am going to be tasting that a lot I think. Gross.

I got a small break between my CT and heart echo. I spent almost an hour with the echo dude talking about prostate cancer and great restaurants to eat in Spokane and how he believes Putin has a terminal illness. The echo itself (essentially an ultrasound) was actually rather uncomfortable. He really was digging around my left breast to get the best images of my heart. I know he was doing his job and he did it well, but fuck that was probably the most uncomfortable I have been during all of my procedures! That includes my biopsy! Wait, scratch that. My first mammogram was a bitch. My poor cancer boob got crushed hard. Oof. Echo comes second. The breast biopsy and specifically the MRI IV are tied for third. Just in case we are keeping track.

We ended the day back in nuclear medicine for my bone scan. Essentially I was on a bed thing that went into a large cylindrical type machine and got pushed out slowly, almost like a pizza on a conveyor belt. I was hot and ready! Well I was cold but I was ready to be done. At that point, it was almost 4 pm and I was super hungry since I hadn’t eaten since 10 am and imagining myself like a pizza was the only way I could get through my last appointment. Luckily it was painless and I got my needle removed and off I went to the Red Robin to reward myself for surviving Scan Day.

I have to say I have loved meeting all of my nurses and techs and doctors during this process to prepare me for treatment. I wish I could photograph everyone I am meeting on this journey. I have to constantly remind myself of their humanity in a profession that is viewed so God like. The conversations sometimes bring me down to earth with them. They also calm me. I feel less like a specimen and more like a normal human when I can just have a small conversation about my life beyond my cancer diagnosis.

Initially, I was under the impression that my chemotherapy would start the week of March 21. I thought this because I had scans all day today and I wasn’t meeting with my oncologist until March 17 to review my scans. Imagine my surprise getting a call from the cancer center 40 minutes after my last appointment telling me I have chemo on March 17. I kept my tears out of my burger I was eating but I felt my world crashing down. I felt time warping into itself. I thought I had more time. I need more time. The trouble is, you think you have time.

The pro in all of this is that we are moving to treat this cancerous mess as soon as possible. That I am grateful for. The urgency is daunting. I am still grappling with my diagnosis. I went from thinking I had 13 days to 6 days to prepare. In 6 days my body will begin it’s transformation. In 6 days I will begin to lose my hair. In 6 days I will have poisons in my body. In 6 days everything changes.

T-minus six days until the first round of chemo. Ready or not, here I go.

Today’s song lyric of the day is brought to you by Calvin Harris. This is dedicated to one of my favorite nurses in California if he reads this since we used to blare this leaving WSU Tri-Cities on Friday’s. 2009 Calvin Harris is my favorite Calvin Harris. Here’s to my last weekend before chemo.

“You get a feeling, that’s what you choose
And I was told there was not a minute to lose
So if you’re waiting, jump out your skin
To find a cure for whatever state you’re in”

– Ready For The Weekend, Calvin Harris

Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): We are a week post port installation and today is the first day that I finally feel ~mostly~ normal, or at least whatever the new normal is. I will attempt to exercise tomorrow. I’ve been super crampy and my anxiety is VERY high for tomorrow’s CT scan, bone scan, and echo. I really hope there are no other cancers floating all nimbly bimbly in my body. FYI today’s blog is about periods and birth control. This is a safe space to learn more about bodies!

TO THE LONG VERSION!

I’ve been on birth control since I was 15 years old. That is half of my life! Being on birth control was initially out of requirement because I was taking Acutane. My acne was out of control and wouldn’t respond to anything to clear it. My zits were NUTS. They were swollen and gross and painful. I tried every cleanser at the store. I tried Proactive, which was being pushed as the acne savior in the early 2000’s. I tried more water. I tried EVERYTHING and nothing would help the hellish bubbling zits and deep black heads that my body was an expert at producing. WHY IS MY BODY SO GOOD AT PRODUCING BAD THINGS!?

I was called pizza face a lot in middle school. Brace Face. Fatty Madi. Uggo. I was bullied throughout my middle school and high school experiences. I used to call myself the perfect person to be bullied because I had the trifecta of things kids love to make fun of: bad acne, braces, and overweight. I was also introverted and weird, but I guess not in the cool way according to 11-18 year olds?? Those years of my youth were full of magic but also full of depression and the deep need to be loved and accepted for who I was. I started my first round of Acutane my sophomore year. Taking birth control is mandatory because if I were to get pregnant while taking that drug, there would be severe consequences to the fetus to the point that the label warns you that you will be asked to terminate the pregnancy. Now, I didn’t picture myself having sex at all (I wasn’t), but the doctors still put you on it just in case you did or if you are a victim of sexual assault. How is that for some added trauma to an already traumatic drug?

I ended up doing two rounds of Acutane: once in high school and once in college. Acutane Fucks. You. Up. My hair and skin were so brittle. You get so incredibly dry. I was flakier than a French croissant. My lips have never recovered from those treatments. I am constantly applying chapstick as an adult. I still attribute it to those intense treatments changing my body. Depression was rampant, another devastatingly huge side effect of that drug. You also cannot drink while taking it (not a problem until I did my round in college.) I am acne free for the most part now (such a blessing) but sometimes I relish in finding a good black head to destroy now that I see them less often. Ah, the simple joys in life. Pro tip: TJ Maxx has the best lighting for finding lonely black heads while scoring a great deal on designer clothing. They really should hire me for an ad. Wanna sport your zits in style? Shop at TJ Maxx! And this is why I work in marketing for a living. *cackles*

I stayed on birth control following both rounds. It didn’t make sense to roll off. I am one of the lucky ones who has had no real side effects taking the pill. No issues. I was caught off guard when I was asked to immediately stop taking them when I was diagnosed with breast cancer since it could make my situation worse. So I stopped. But what has come AFTER stopping has blown my mind.

I was sitting on the couch last night writing my blog and the moment I got up, I felt intense cramping. I stopped walking and was insanely confused. My period is not due for another two weeks, but I figured I might not get to visit another menstrual cycle because I am going to receive a shot to make my ovaries temporarily go to sleep to protect them during chemotherapy. Immediately I thought like fuck I have cancerous ovaries. Of course! Any pain is now cancer. I am fucked! Cue panic.

I messaged my friends and told them what was happening. I was crying thinking my cancer has spread (because honestly this is a very real fear for me right now!) It did not take much investigative work on their end to realize I was ovulating and that is why I was cramping.

I WAS SHOOK.

You cramp during ovulation, I guess….? I have gone most of my life experiencing menstruation never having this experience because of being on birth control. Honestly, my experience with birth control has been fortunately quite blissful. Periods are often times a breeze for me. I was BLOWN AWAY. Honestly, I still am. And now I am fully understanding and respecting the power of my body in a brand new way. I also seem to know very little about menstruating so I feel like an idiot. What the hell.

Tomorrow I will take my crampy body to outpatient imaging. I will get lit up with tracers to show any other possible cancerous places in my body. I will get my heart checked out to prepare for a battle that will damage my heart. I will cry. I will eat lunch. I will survive the day.

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

“I can’t keep up with my emotions
But I need ’em
Yeah, I’m happy
On the weekend
But then the week hits
Now I’m cryin’ for no reason”

– Mood Swings, Evan Giia

Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): Yesterday, I requested my genetic counselor to send me my results through the portal and today it updated and said that results would be shared April 7… so I hope she calls me before then? I felt emotionally numb for most the day. I am also having random pain in my right lymph node biopsy area.

TO THE LONG VERSION!

I wish I was able to talk about some of the things I am experiencing emotionally right now. Part of it is that it is incredibly hard for me to articulate how I am feeling because I am finding that the language I am using is not strong enough to match the feelings I am experiencing. I wonder if anyone can understand the magnitude of what I feel with just words alone without being personally subjected to the category five hurricane in my brain? The pressure feels relentless. Even small moments I try to give myself to breathe and be present in life don’t provide much relief right now. Yesterday I cried a lot. Today didn’t cry at all. I felt numb.

The other part of this has to do with some of the complex relationships in my life and how those are impacting my processing. I wish I could talk about them freely in this forum, but I can’t. Those weigh heavy on my heart.

I don’t really drink but sometimes I wish I could just be drunk so I wouldn’t care for a moment about what is happening. I haven’t been drunk in years… maybe at least six years? I remember during lock down I was on a Zoom call on a Friday night with my college friends and we were all drinking, but even then I couldn’t get myself to dip beyond two glasses of wine. I definitely was buzzed and being the goofier version of myself. Like I was literally at home, nowhere to go, and I had a shit ton of wine (the good shit from my mom… if you know you know!) and I couldn’t get myself to drink more than I should! I am laughing at myself right now because this is really funny for me to type out for you all to read. I am glad that drinking isn’t my vice, but I keep looking around and wondering what my vices are. Cats and plants and tough gym sessions??? Are those even vices???

I picked up the lidocaine cream to numb my skin for Friday’s scans. This will be the first time we use the port! I am not excited to be stabbed like a Capri Sun multiple times over the course of the next however many months, but it is better than messing with my sneaky arm veins. I get super squeamish with bruised arms. My friend at work is super brave and takes needles like a champ and is always wanting to show me her arms after she gets blood drawn and I always want to throw up. There is a bruise fading on my right hand from the IV last Thursday. I’ve been avoiding contact with my hand at work. Sorry, hand. You scare me.

I did want to note for anyone that cares that I have been having some incredible sleeps lately according to my Fitbit. Like I am hardcore in REM and normally most of my sleep is spent in light sleep so this is a random life improvement! I have had pretty great consistent energy lately since my surgery and you would think that would be the opposite given the circumstances. Maybe because I am not waking up at 5:30 am to exercise??? I haven’t exercised since last week so I really hope this weekend I feel well enough to do a light leg day or something. Maybe hit up BodyPump if I feel extra spicy. Today Jose saw a dumbbell set at Costco on sale for a killer price and I told him he had to get it for me. I am super stoked to have a heavier weight set at home and can’t wait to use them. For anyone who is looking to do some amazing at-home workouts, I follow this girl on YouTube named Sydney Cummings. Her workouts are FANTASTIC and great for any fitness journey. I’ve been doing her workouts for the last couple of months at home. 10/10 recommend.

I just really want to feel like myself again. I so desperately miss me. I miss my routines and a sense of normalcy in my life, but I digress. This seems like a good time to stop rambling and a great segue into today’s song lyric!

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

“When will I begin to feel like me again?
I’m hanging by a thread
My skin’s paper thin, I can’t stop wavering
I’ve never been more scared”

– Cry Your Heart Out, Adele