Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): It has been a long week and weekend, but I am finally on the mend from COVID. Today was the first day since last weekend that I have felt more like my cancer self. The combination of having a week off chemo and kicking COVID to the curb has left me having the most energy I have had in months. It is week 21 of chemo and Thursday marks my LAST CHEMO INFUSION!

TO THE LONG VERSION!

In high school, I discovered a British jewelry channel called Gems TV. I would spend hours watching fine jewelry auctions. What can I say??? They made it super engaging! It was a falling auction format, starting at a high price but eventually crashing the price to something absurd. Real certified gemologists ran the show, so you would get rants and raves and educational lectures about each piece of jewelry available for purchase. I learned a shit ton about jewelry! From various cuts of gems to different types and mining locations, I was obsessed that a channel could be so fun and educational while trying to sell you shit. I was so obsessed to the point that I applied at a jewelry store in the mall. I didn’t get the job, but that is how far my obsession ran.

I always felt like I was missing out on the fun of the show because I was too young to order things. The more I learned, the more I wanted to own at least something. I convinced my mom a few times to order stuff. I know she still has at least one of things she bought which was a ruby belt buckle ring. I remember we ordered a tanzanite piece because they were all the rage at the time (turns out they still are!) but she ended up returning it because the blue was not as vivid as she thought it would be. I was depressed with the news and vowed someday I would buy pieces of my own when I had my own money.

One day the channel disappeared from our service provider and I was devastated! DEVASTATED. How can you pull the GREATEST selling show of all time?! I thought maybe the company was gone forever. Luckily my sister came across it several years later under the new name of Gemporia and I was giddy with glee! Turns out the provider just stopped offering the channel. Lame.

I go through phases of watching obsessively. The first time in my adult life was when my sister rediscovered its existence! We could finally watch it from a web browser, so I remember nights laying in bed watching it before I fell asleep. I ended up investing in a sleeping beauty turquoise piece during that first phase. It is set in sterling silver, with three teardrop turquoise gems that are the most insane blue. Sleeping beauty turquoise is renowned for not having inclusions like turquoise you generally come across. Occasionally I wear it in place of my wedding ring. I like the idea of buying pieces I can wear interchangeably like that and I honestly believe diamonds are overrated despite the fact I do have a gorgeous diamond ring. The center stone is a brilliant cut and is the diamond my mom had on her wedding ring to my dad, so I made an exception obviously. But in a perfect world, I would probably have a Russian Alexandrite or maybe even a Paraiba Tourmaline.

The second phase of time was when I was sick with COVID in December of 2020. Alone during the holidays and finished with season one of Bridgerton, I found myself once again watching on my phone. This time I didn’t make any purchases, but it was a nice reminder that I could if I wanted to at this stage in my life.

The third time was this past week. Before I got sick, Jose reminded me of Gemporia (what a nice guy hahah) and I fell asleep the last couple of weekends after chemo watching wheel after wheel of jewelry. I had been reminded of it in February when Jose gifted me a pair of gold Tahitian pearl drop earrings from Gemporia for Valentine’s Day, but it was quickly overshadowed by my tumor discovery several days later. It brought me a ton of comfort this week as I spent the days alone, numb in sickness of COVID and chemo. It has been nostalgic, weirdly entertaining, and still educational. I ended up buying five pieces of jewelry last week, two of them being gifts, two for Jose, and one piece for me. Trust me when I say that I hardly spent anything and got INSANE deals. I am a deal hunter after all. Gemporia has both lulled me to sleep and kept me awake. I literally would watch it all day if I could, a dangerous act considering I am now an adult with a credit card and debit card.

It is weird how I go through phases of watching the show and it just so happens to be at times when I have a lot of expendable time and am in need of comfort. Now you all know what brings me to ease: a British 24/7 jewelry channel. And if you ever need a recommendation for what to buy in terms of fine gems, you know I am your girl.

This week was a hard one, with my previous post very emo and sad. I am happy to report that my smell and taste have returned to their previous state of parosmia and I am back to healing from 2020 COVID! Woo! I was hopeful that maybe this new infection would trip my nerves into returning to complete normalcy, but I am guessing OG COVID did some wild shit and even the new variant was like “Nah, no thanks,” and dipped.

I am still testing positive based on an at-home test I took yesterday. My test lit up positive SO FAST. However, I feel back to my cancer self today. I have had no new symptoms since last Tuesday. I think I am past the contagious phase, but it is interesting that you can continue to test positive for a while after infection. That is why the first time I had COVID I refused to test after because I had quarantined for 10 days and was cleared by the health district by CDC standards. I really struggled with the stigma and shame that came with my first infection. This time around I still experienced them, just on a less intense level. But damn, this reinfection gave me PTSD. I cannot wait to get my next booster. Who would have ever thought I would wish for another shot???

Today I felt a lot of energy, the most energy I have felt in a long time. I cleaned, I meal prepped food for my lunch and for dinner this week, and did a strong leg day. In fact, the last two days I have been able to do light weight lifting and it has been THRILLING. My muscles are still rather weak and fatigued from chemo, but I can tell something in me is shifting. I cannot wait to get this last chemo over with so I can begin healing. If this is a glimpse into what is to come, like fuck… this August is going to be a beautiful month for rediscovering my body before I have to get my breasts chopped off. I am still in denial about that.

In the meantime, I am going to enjoy this week, watch a shit ton of Gemporia, and try to exercise as much as I can before Thursday. I don’t look forward to getting my ass kicked one final time, but I cannot wait to ring that fucking bell.

Today’s song lyrics of the day are brought to you by Iggy Azalea.

“I’m so fancy
You already know
I’m in the fast lane
From L.A. to Tokyo
I’m so fancy
Can’t you taste this gold?
Remember my name, ’bout to blow-oh-oh-oh”

– Fancy, Iggy Azalea, Charlie XCX

I think the universe hates me. Maybe I’ve done something in a past lifetime to deserve this fucked up karma or maybe in this lifetime. Maybe I killed too many boxelder bugs and ants and now I am being punished for being unkind to insects. I really hate boxelder bugs.

For the second time in my life, I have completely lost my sense of smell and taste. THIS HAS HAPPENED TO ME TWICE. TWICE!!!

If you’ve been following me for a while now, you know that in December 2020 I earned the badge of honor of catching the OG COVID-19 strain and lost my sense and smell completely. I was completely anosmic (no smell) for almost three months before developing parosmia (distorted smell). Since March of 2021, I have been on a slow non-linear winding road gaining and losing “safe” foods. It was until chemo that I had a huge break through and meat finally became edible! Not tasty, just edible. AND IT WAS GLORIOUS. I have learned to survive on pesto noodles and peach cups. I am the seagull of parosmia: a survivor and will try anything as long as it doesn’t kill me.

And here we are, four days into my second infection and I have lost my smell and taste. And I have cancer. Like I was told that chemo would rob me of my taste and smell, but chemo was kind enough to let me keep that small morsel of hope and joy. But COVID is a bitch. A fucking bitch. Fuck it makes me so mad that people don’t take it seriously. Honestly I feel like giving up. My health is so fucked right now. So fucked.

I want to sit in my pity party for a while and cry and be upset. This isn’t fucking fair. I was still a COVID longhauler when I tested positive on Monday for COVID. Like…. make it make sense. And if I have to start over with parosmia AGAIN I may just fully lose it.

I am too pissed off to suggest a song for you to listen to. No song of the day; just the sound of my tears rushing down my cheeks and me screaming into the void.

FUCK.

Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): This week was supposed to be my last week of chemo but guess who tested positive for COVID-19 this morning?! THIS BALD CANCER PATIENT. Rage is not a strong enough word for what I am experiencing.

TO THE LONG VERSION!

What do you get when you mix an opportunistic virus with an immunocompromised chemo-riddled host? You get a positive COVID-19 test on a Monday morning and rage-filled tears! This normally would not induce that much rage (or it might considering I have avoided catching COVID since December 2020) but the fact it was my last week of chemo and now it is postponed until next week leaves me breathless and wordless. I am SO CLOSE to being done with poison cocktails. I am done with the numbing neuropathy in my fingers. I am done feeling like a bloated dead jellyfish on the sandy beach. I am done with my creepy dead nails that scare people around me. I am done feeling like I have a body that has aged decades.

So while I struggle with the side effects of chemo, I also am struggling with the symptoms of COVID. My neck lymph nodes are super swollen. My body is EXTRA fatigued. The body aches are almost unbearable. I have a weird little cough that randomly appears throughout the day. But luckily no fever. It feels “mild” (in the grand scheme of things but I feel like I want to die) and I am vaccinated and boosted once, so I am grateful, but I worry given the state of my body. It is wrecked from chemo. I just hope that the variant I have and the viral load I have taken on is small and my body can kick this COVID bitch out of my system. Honestly the symptoms I have today are FAR worse than my weekly chemo side effects. Isn’t that funny?

I worry about my existing long COVID symptoms and how that might be impacted by this variant. Wouldn’t it be cool if this time around with COVID my parosmia just magically clears up? I don’t think that is how science works but you know I am hopeful. I just really hope my parosmia does not get worse. That is literally my worst nightmare right now. Let me enjoy my asada tacos in peace! I DON’T ASK FOR MUCH!

I’ve spent most of the day sleeping and letting my body rest. I had an initial feeling of PTSD when my COVID test lit up with two lines. The shame I experienced the first time around with COVID echoed through my body. It was a familiar response. It was heavy and sad and gut wrenching. There was so much pressure to trace where you might have gotten sick at or from who two years ago. And this morning I experienced that again when some people asked if I knew where I got it from. It made me feel bad as if I had made a bad choice and didn’t care about myself enough. In reality, COVID is spreading quickly through our community and is highly contagious. I could have gotten it from anyone or anywhere I have been to last week. Nobody would be asking me where or who I saw if I had come down with a cold or the flu, so why do we place so much importance on tracing COVID still? It once had purpose, but now the ways we catch COVID have integrated into the normal lives we live. I think we all need to do work to remove the shame that comes with getting sick. It isn’t like we leave the home with the intention of getting sick and sometimes you can do all the things in the world to protect yourself and it might just not be enough.

I do think we owe it to folks around us when we do get sick to let them know. I texted everyone I could think of that I have recently seen to let them know. They can make the choices they need to with their bodies and be on the lookout for symptoms. I think that is the responsible response in any scenario when we are sick with anything. You never know when you could be a carrier for something and spread it to someone who may not be able to fight it.

There is this balance I have been trying to strike between caring about myself and protecting myself by staying home, but also enjoying my life and not feeling like I am stuck in the cancer prison. I went 19 weeks striking the balance and that sneaky little COVID bitch was just lurking and found an opportunity to nestle in for a nice summer’s nap in my body. Rip.

My last chemo has been postponed to next Thursday. My scheduler called this morning and said I had the option to just not do my last chemo if I wanted to, but I want to RING THAT BELL. I will gladly consume more poison so I can know that feeling. That is victory. That is a tangible experience to make this feel like it was worth it. I mean yeah we are kicking cancer ass, but knowing the reward is to ring a coveted bell is something worth enduring for.

Thank you to everyone who has checked in and offered to bring me things. Shout out to Zach for the insane amount of Spudnuts, Heather for the special lemon ginger honey concoction, Sue for the strawberry milkshake, and Elissa for letting me use her Wal-Mart subscription to get groceries delivered. I don’t know what I did in this lifetime to be loved by so many people, but damn I am so fucking grateful and hope I can return the favor someday.

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

“Ready or not, here I come, you can’t hide
Gonna find you and take it slowly
Ready or not (Uh-huh), here I come, you can’t hide
Gonna find you and make you want me”

– Ready or Not, Fugees, Ms. Lauryn Hill, Wyclef Jean, Pras

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

TO THE LONG VERSION!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“One more time
One more time

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

– One More Time, Daft Punk

Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): Tomorrow is my second to last chemo! This week is week 19 of chemotherapy and it will be my 15th treatment! It is the first time during treatment that I literally do not want to go to chemo tomorrow. I want to see my nurse friends, but I do not want to get treatment. I have zero interest in feeling worse. And yet, I must go. But I don’t want to go and I want everyone to know that I have liked going up until last Friday and now I am done feeling like shit. How is it that one can like going to chemo? I mean, the snacks are a huge draw. And I like destroying cancer. But now my body is a sad potato and I want to be done.

TO THE LONG VERSION!

Can you believe I have been doing this cancer bullshit for 150 days?! I feel like I need some froyo to celebrate how far I’ve come but also to just cool down because it is HOT HOT HOT outside today. I get extra hot these days because of menopause. I am a spicy little baldie. I am not allowed to be in the sun which is sad because I am meant to be outside frolicking with the bees in the sunflowers. Alas, I sit in my air conditioning and watch my tomato plants crisp up and wait for the sun to go down to water them. I can go outside; I just need to sunscreen it up and not stay out too long. The easiest solution most days is to just stay indoors to reduce the risk of major burning.

A couple of months ago I asked folks what they wanted me to talk about in my blog. One of the most requested topics was how much it costs to have cancer. I wanted to provide a little snapshot of my personal experience navigating the insurance waters but wanted to set some expectations for folks as we explore this conversation. The price of having cancer is high. Financially, emotionally, and physically you have to pay and sacrifice so much. Chronic illness is a burden. I am extremely privileged to have insurance coverage provided by my employer that is affordable and has really awesome coverage. I hate that I had to find out how “awesome” my insurance is because of this experience, but I cannot imagine my experience without it. As I share a bit about this, please consider the following variables that impact my claims and what I have to pay: how much the hospital charges for services, how much they bill insurance, and how much I pay before and after deductibles and meeting my out of pocket maximum and “discounts.” Every insurance and their exchange with a provider/hospital is different. I want to be clear that I am not an insurance expert, so I cannot speak to anyone else’s experience but my own. I also know very little about insurance and have been learning during this journey. Just being honest. OKAY! Let’s roll.

As of today, July 20, this is what my insurance claim portal currently reflects. My insurance has been billed $128,221! This includes everything I have experienced the last 150 days including scans, doctor appointments, therapy, massages, infusions, blood work, and anything else I forgot to list. My deductible is $250 and my out of pocket maximum is $2,000. I met my out of pocket fairly quickly. And I am lucky that my insurance will pay 100% of my claims after I meet my out of pocket. For the next five years, assuming I keep this job and this insurance, I will continue to pay two grand out of pocket which that is a burden I will need to budget for moving forward, but it could be a lot worse. Again, shout out to my insurance for being decent.

When I dig further into my claims inbox, I am able to see a bit more detail. It looks like my weekly infusions are $1,861.60 which includes my chemo and premeds. When I look back at the red devil chemos, my claims show that the amount billed is for $5,779 but my discounted rate is $3,993.84! (However, it looks like that is not the consistent rate I was charged for every red devil chemo.) I wonder if I could get a punch card for chemo? Buy five chemos, get one free???

And then I have random claims for when I meet with my oncologist or see someone else. Those charges seem to vary. On my most recent visit I was charged $117 to see my oncologist but was charged $330 for a visit in May. I don’t know what the variance is or why. My lab work seems to be fairly consistent at $145 weekly. Those claims are always processed relatively quickly. Some of my other claims like chemo and scans take a bit to process and hit my account. Of course, my favorite Zoladex injection comes in at a hot $557. I need those once a month for the next five years so those will meet my out of pocket maximum fairly quickly.

I could go on and on but clearly there are some things happening behind the scenes I don’t understand and I am in a privileged position not needing to fully understand because of the coverage my insurance provides. I expect to hit over $150,000 in claims this year alone. I still have two chemos left, scans, surgery, radiation, more scans, and more lab work to come. I would not be surprised if I even hit $175,000.

For AYAs (adolescent and young adults) going through active treatment, one of the biggest barriers can be insurance because access to insurance is oftentimes tied with employment or they age out of their parents’ insurance. And some folks don’t have insurance period. Access to insurance is not unique to AYAs, but it is an issue when decent insurance is tied to career opportunities. The last thing that folks need when making life saving decisions about their health is insurance (or lack thereof) preventing them from receiving care, feeling like receiving care will leave them financially doomed, or that they cannot take leave from work in fear of losing benefits to focus on their treatment.

I recognize there are resources and grants that exist in the world to help support folks who lack insurance or need additional assistance, and that is great! However, those resources are finite. And don’t get me started on the equity issue of folks of color are less likely to have access to insurance and/or employment options that have great insurance benefits, furthering the divide between white folks and people of color. And even with insurance, navigating the jargon and issues when the hospital and insurance aren’t communicating right is a heavy burden on its own. Why isn’t “Insurance 101” a class we take at some point in our lives like in highschool? What’s a claim? What’s a deducible? It’s a privilege to even know those terms if you’re lucky enough to have insurance and be exposed to that language.

I could write a whole academic paper on this issue (and I recognize I skipped over a lot of details and other important things tied to insurance) but because I am really exhausted, I don’t have capacity at this time. But in short, I think simply stating that our healthcare system needs a full makeover and that healthcare should be free and a right to all is enough for now. Fuck capitalism and let’s favor human life more. Fuck for-profit health systems that benefit from the sick. You don’t need to have a chronic illness to know that choosing to receive care for any illness shouldn’t be decided on whether or not you (and/or your family) can afford it.

I recognize and want to reiterate that I am extremely privileged to have insurance that has supported my cancer treatment and folks who have held fundraisers in my honor to help offset out of pocket expenses. I have had an amazing support system in that way and I realize that not everyone has that network of support. I won’t be anchored down by medical debt any time soon and that is a blessing and has allowed me to focus my attention on worrying about healing and surviving. I hope to use this experience to advocate at some point at the state and national level for changes in our healthcare system. That is a big task and probably an impossible one, but what else can we do? People shouldn’t have to wait until they are experiencing a medical crisis in our healthcare system to know and be sympathetic and want to change the existing system. We all need access to equitable healthcare. It isn’t working for everyone and until it does, it needs to be dismantled.

Today’s song lyrics of the day are brought to you by Michael Andrews.

“And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I’m dying
Are the best I’ve ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles it’s a very, very
Mad world, mad world”

– Mad World, Gary Jules, Michael Andrews

Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): Welcome to chemo week number 15! This is the first time I have felt that I might not make it to the end of treatment. I have two chemos left over the course of the next ten days. My fingers, feet, and various patches on my face are numb. Walking takes so much energy. Even driving is oddly hard. I saw on MyChart that I get all of August to recover from chemo before surgery. My last day of chemo is July 28 and then I don’t see my oncologist again until August 26. Is a month enough for me to bounce back, even a little? We will find out.

TO THE LONG VERSION!

If you‘re going through hell, keep going.

Winston Churchill

I’ve taken a huge step back from social media and texting. If you haven’t heard from me, it isn’t personal; I just have so little energy these days. I just pop in to give random updates and then dip off the web, assuming people don’t care. Surprise! People do care and often respond. I tweeted this morning that chemo was destroying me and one of my followers sent me the Churchill quote. It has been on my mind all day as I’ve pushed myself forward to function.

I am in my personal hell. I can’t stop. I have to keep going.

It is the strangest feeling to be in a vessel that was once so able bodied and now is technically disabled or at least temporarily? Maybe semi permanent? Hard to say and we won’t know for a while. My mind is fairly alert (most of the time) but my body no longer responds to my brain the same way it used to. I feel awkward saying that because I have been able bodied my whole life and suddenly there are so many tasks I cannot do. It has challenged me to rethink both visible and invisible disabilities. We cannot discount another’s experience simply because we cannot see it or understand it. How can we do better to validate and offer spaces for people to feel more comfortable? Navigating the world without a disability is already a challenge, so when you add that extra layer and the layer that most people don’t give a fuck about making the world an easier place for folks who are disabled, life feels like humanity could care less about anyone who isn’t able bodied. I really hate that.

I remember watching my mom suffer during her cancer treatment and finding myself sympathizing but also being grateful that I still had my health intact. Is it karma for me to have cancer now that I thought that way? I’ve tortured myself over that question and realized that there is humanity in feeling both of those feelings. We can be sympathetic while counting our blessings, but also like damn our health is the most important thing any of us can ever own. Here I am on the other side of the fence and I know I wish I could save everyone from this experience if I could. I’d rather experience it than have someone else go through it, if that was a real trade. Cancer is a bitch. Side effects from chemo are a bitch. Every day requires every cell I can muster up to keep moving forward and I am, but fuck this fucking sucks.

Something shifted in me after my last chemo. I went from being in a position where I felt like I could bounce back between treatments to a permanent state of feeling shitty until this ends. My fingers are numb. All ten of my nails are lifted and in various stages of removal. There is a weird rash again on my hands and elbows. My feet are numb and both of my big toes and the toes next to them are lifting as well. My face feels numb in spots. My eyes are constantly leaking, making it appear I am crying when I am not. My nose is often bloody. No matter how much I sleep, I feel exhausted. Walking is suddenly harder and requires more of my attention span. I run into things a lot more and I don’t have complete control of my hands anymore. I can’t zip things or pick up things off flat surfaces. I can’t get my retainer out of my mouth anymore with my fingers, so I use the corner of a towel every morning to help lift them off my teeth. I can’t scratch myself anymore. The list goes on and on….

This is what chemo looks like.

I get paranoid that people might think I am lying or think that I am “fine” because I went for a walk on my break at work. I look fairly normal and like myself, aside from the fact I am completely hairless. But it almost feels like the way I am feeling isn’t justified. I am in denial about what is happening to my body. I have to remind myself that there is literally poison floating in my body to kill off cells that can kill me and nobody gets to decide what I do with my time. I can be tired and walk (which I do). I just want to try to keep active and get outside when I am on break at work. Also, why is this thought in my brain? I have no idea how it got there. Literally NOBODY has said shit to me. Even on anxiety meds I find something that doesn’t exist to worry about.

Anyway. My body is deteriorating and I get to just watch it crumble. I will be crawling to the finish line next week to ring that chemo bell. But regardless if I am crawling or someone is pushing me in a wheelbarrow, I am crossing that fucking finish line. I am ringing that damn bell.

If you’re going through hell, keep going. Keep going.

Today’s song lyrics of the day are brought to you by Stone Sour.

“I’m looking at you through the glass
Don’t know how much time has passed
Oh God, it feels like forever
But no one ever tells you that forever feels like home
Sitting all alone inside your head”

– Through Glass, Stone Sour

Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): Chemo #14 is in the hole! We officially have TWO CHEMOS LEFT. Today’s chemo was full of weird little happenings. Oh and today is the day I get to share my surprise!! I guess you’ll have to read the full post to find out what it is. Reader bait!

TO THE LONG VERSION!

Today we learned having the cancer card doesn’t work during a fire drill at the cancer center and that the cancer card does work when a Rite Aid pharmacy worker is annoyed at you for not picking up your pills on time. The more you know!

Randomly one of my prescriptions was filled at the pharmacy on July 7. I kind of forgot about it and got the warning text about picking them up otherwise they would be returned. I went two nights ago to pick them up, but the drive thru was closed. I went today and the drive thru was closed again so I had to go inside. There was no line (luckily) but the tech was annoyed with me and was like asking me why I didn’t come get them on time and if I got my reminder texts. I told her I forgot because I am a cancer patient with chemo brain and her tone instantly changed to compassionate and kind. But like damn lady, sorry I didn’t come on time. Life is rough for me!

Today at chemo, we were informed that there would be a practice fire drill at 4 pm and I was in a pod that had the fire alarm in it. I was told because I was in active treatment that I didn’t have to do anything and could stay in my pod. Great, can’t wait to get my ears blown out! I didn’t have any headphones or earplugs, so my emotional support human grabbed the paper towels for us to put in our ears to help. Luckily when the alarm did go off, our alarm just blinked and didn’t scream at us. Our makeshift earplugs were not effective anyways so it all worked out. The alarm blared for 30 seconds or so, turned off, and then they closed the door to my pod for a bit and then reopened it once the drill was over. I guess cancer patients and staff all need fire drills, too.

The fire drill was not the only weird thing about chemo today. Of course Harry Porter and the Prisoner of Cancerban was being a little bitch again. I would fill up the test tubes with blood but then it like knew I wanted to be on time for the day and stopped giving blood for the actual test vials. Seriously? It took 45 minutes and I am sure over 30 port flushes. I was kind of stressed out so I forgot to count. I just really did not want to have my good day ruined by my port who is supposed to be my bestie. Because of my port, my whole infusion was delayed waiting on my numbers to come back from the lab.

Of course, my numbers are super low again. My chemo nurse told me she had bad news and handed me my lab report. Not only do I have a growth factor injection tomorrow, but I have another Saturday and I have to go to the hospital in Richland for that one. Ugh. I really need to take it easy this weekend and avoid crowds and randos. My nurse said my oncologist was frustrated and was like, “She is SO close.” I imagined her saying it and it was the cutest vision. My oncologist is a pretty straight forward person, so for her to cheer me on like that is a big deal. She wants me to push through. We don’t want to skip a chemo week because then I would need to make it up, making me finish in August and not on July 28 like planned. So, I am pushing through, taking the stomach shots like a fucking champ, and reminding myself that crying is cool. Excuse me as I mourn my midsection.

In less depressing news, we saw a therapy dog at chemo today named Murphy. He was a sweet lil pup and I was so grateful that we got a furry visitor. I love animals so much!

And the surprise has been revealed today: I was named one of ten Young Professionals of the Year by the Tri-Cities Journal of Business. It is a humbling honor and a reminder that I am more than my cancer diagnosis. I do have cancer. It is permanently etched into my life journey now and I mourn the person I was before cancer came through and fucked shit up. But other parts of me exist with that and I guess that also means I am a young little potato professional that was worth being showcased. You can read alllllll about it here if you want some light energetic reading before bed.

Speaking of bed, I need to go rest my little ojos (eyes.)

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

“Be somebody, be somebody
The hater’s gonna like it when you’ll be somebody
Be somebody, be somebody
These bitches gonna like it when you’ll be somebody”

– Be Somebody, BROHUG

Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): Twas the eve of chemo number fourteen… One chemo closer to the end. After tomorrow, we just have two chemos left. I am in a constant state of feeling like shit. Chemo has worn me down. I am tired. My body is tired. If you don’t hear from me, it isn’t personal. I just don’t have capacity for most things anymore. Rip.

TO THE LONG VERSION!

One of the best pieces of advice I ever received from my mom was to make sure to work in the fast food industry at some point in my life because it is a life changing experience. You learn to hustle. You learn to respect the hustle. You learn to respect human beings in a different way. My mom is a smart cookie (as we all know) so my first job in college was at a chicken wing place called Hot Wingz. You guys…. we had the best chicken wings I have ever had in my life. We had 12 different wing sauces and most of them were made in-house and we had burgers. Our food was the shit and if you have been there, you know what I am talking about.

Because of my two and a half year stint there, I am now a self pronounced chicken wing snob! I don’t fuck around with weak ass wings or weak sauces. Hard pass Domino’s and Pizza Hut! And I am really judgmental about chicken wings. One time, Jose and I went to this local restaurant (I don’t want to say their name because I don’t want to roast them) and I got into it with the cashier at the place because she was trying to tell me the word “Buffalo” (as in Buffalo wings) was in reference to a bone-in wing.

No. No. No. No.

“Buffalo” is a type of sauce. And she argued with me and Jose about it! It is one thing to argue with me and a whole different ball game to argue with Jose. I mean, he worked with me at the chicken wing place. That is literally how we met: over a bowl of saucy chicken wings. Our love is literally made of honey chipotle and honey habanero wing sauce. I ended up trying their wings anyways and they sucked and I wrote a Yelp review about it that maxed out on the character count. That is how passionate I am about wings.

Sadly Hot Wingz closed shortly after our departure and those wings and burgers are but a sweet memory. The most acceptable dine-out wing I have encountered since then is Buffalo Wild Wings’ mango habanero bone-in wings. They are sweet and spicy and generally fried well enough to preserve the juicy meat. I love a good burn. I love spicy anything. It makes me feel powerful and almost immortal? I don’t know why.

But eating chicken wings on a date night is spendy as fuck and I live with a chicken wing cook, so we often times will opt to make our own chicken wings. And we always make chicken wings for Superbowl. It is our yearly tradition to honor the Sunday madness at the chicken wing store. Also football and chicken wings are a classic pair! Obio.

However, the last two years for Superbowl I have had parosmia (thanks COVID-19!) and chicken wings have been a sad experience. In 2021, I was completely anosmic and couldn’t taste them. This year, chicken and most peppery foods still tasted like shit to me, so it was a no go. But something shifted for me after my first red devil chemo and chicken has become more edible. Small wins?

I was feeling nostalgic this week and keep getting targeted ads for Buffalo Wild Wings, so I was like well let’s fuck around and find out and see how my taste buds are doing! Tonight I popped those suckers into the air fryer, got them nice and moist, and bought three sauces from Buffalo Wild Wings: Mango habanero, Buffalo hot, and sweet BBQ. Jose left to go get a hair cut so I was like neat me time! I tossed my wings in the sweetly spicy mango habanero sauce, despite knowing I am not supposed to eat spicy food right now, cut up some carrots and celery, and sat down to watch my favorite food reviewer on YouTube.

Ah. This is the life.

I am so glad that Jose was not home to witness what happened next because it was a fucking shit show. I like to pretend that I don’t have cancer when I want to eat spicy food. Spicy food is my self care. And sometimes the mango sauce is not spicy, sometimes it is. I can’t tell if it was spicy today because I have no cells or it was just spicy in general. Tears were STREAMING down my face as my nose uncontrollably watered. I could NOT get them to stop. I literally swallowed so much snot and salty tears while I ate. I have no finger prints and my nails are lifted, so I couldn’t hold the wings in my fingers and I was getting sauce between my nail and my finger. They also kept sliding out of my hands and getting sauce all over my face. Because of that, the sauce was getting into my nose (remember, I have NO nose hairs) and making other parts of my face burn.

I looked like a three year old eating Spaghetti O’s. I was a mess.

The burn was way more intense than normal. It was so intense that the chicken wing felt temperature hot on my lips, to the point I almost thought I had to stop eating. I died tonight eating chicken wings, but I can confirm that the sauce and chicken wings taste mostly normal to me and honestly that whole journey was worth it.

I do want to advise other cancer patients to not do what I did; skip the spicy meal, and wear gloves if you do eat spicy wings because it is an hour after dinner and I have washed my hands like four times and guess who has SPICY MANGO HABANERO WING SAUCE STUCK UNDER THEIR NAILS?! My fingers internally are burning. This is karma.

Who would have thought that chemo could fuck you up this much?

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

“I was born in a flame
Mama said that everyone would know my name
I’m the best you’ve never had
If you think I’m burning out, I’m never am
I’m on fire
I’m on fire
I’m on fire
I’m on fire

Fireball”

– Fireball (feat. John Ryan), Pitbull

I literally just spent the last hour and a half writing a blog post about self care that was SO good and it didn’t save. I am so fucking pissed right now.

f

u

c

k

I will try again tomorrow. I have nothing left to give today.

Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): Chemo number 13 is in the books! THREE CHEMOS LEFT! The countdown feels so good but fuck I am going to be practically crawling at chemo on the last day haha! I have a growth factor injection tomorrow. My white blood cell count is low, which explains a lot of the extreme fatigue but I really hope I don’t have intense bone pain like last time. I am only getting one injection versus three this time. Small wins?

TO THE LONG VERSION!

Sometimes I wonder who I would be if I didn’t have cancer. What would I have accomplished over the last five months instead of going to chemo infusions and scans and napping endlessly on the couch. It is a fruitless day dream because it is impossible to know. Would I have pulled off a charity art fundraiser without cancer the same way I did with cancer? Would I have already done my Head Shot Happy Hour sessions? Would I have traveled more? I don’t know. And it doesn’t matter. But I like to believe there is a version of me in a different parallel universe that exists without cancer. It is a fun theory. Life flipped a coin and this is the version of me that needed to be formed in this timeline. There were people I needed to meet on this journey to enrich my life. There were experiences I needed to have. Not saying that I deserved or needed cancer, but I just need to find the silver lining in this shitty little universe I am living in. Cancer is dumb, but sometimes there are little cancer gifts and those gifts have made this experience bearable.

I am a bald little cancer bitch who loves stealing snacks and being extra as fuck during cancer treatment! That’s who formed!

That is me hyping myself up because honestly I feel like a pile of potato sludge.

Chemo number 13 is in the books and here is what I learned today since I got to meet with my oncologist: I will have a CT scan this month sometime before my final chemo to see the status of my tumors. Depending on how much they have shrunk will decide whether or not I need additional targeted treatments after my double mastectomy. However, NO MATTER WHAT I am DONE with chemo and the next action will be surgery 3-4 weeks after my last chemo.

I also learned that my nails falling off is actually a side effect of the red devil. My last red devil infusion was April 28 I think, so that shit is still fucking me over two months later. I am experiencing some numbness around my mouth and on my tongue, which is a side effect of my current chemos. So that is fun. I told my oncologist and she is aware of everything, but said if I can hang on, she wants me to power through the next four (now three) rounds so we don’t delay treatment. Basically all I heard when she told me that was, “HOLD ON TO YOUR LUG NUTS. IT IS TIME FOR AN OVERHAUL!”

I will continue to receive a monthly dose of my ~favorite~ stomach injection to stop the production of estrogen and attempt to save my ovaries. There is a three month injection option, but my oncologist does not want to go that route because of my type of cancer. It would be risky and we want to keep estrogen shut down. So I think I need a Zoladex count down for the next five years. That is a lot of stomach shots!!!! FUCK. If my calculations are correct (because math is hard), I have done I think three injections already, so that would mean I have 57 left.

Lol 57 stomach shots and not the cool ones you do at random parties in dark creepy basements with strangers.

I didn’t take a lot of photos today at chemo. I was tired and was with my dad, so we mostly focused on stealing oatmeal today. I stole three.

Cancer doesn’t end at chemo, so please don’t ask me, “Oh so you’re good now, right?” No I am not good. I am not good until I hear that I am cancer free in five years and I really hope I get to hear those sweet, sweet words. Until then, I am a war zone fucking around and finding out what an aggressive cancer can do to a body. It can do a lot by the way. But even at the five year mark, I will have a whole new set of problems. Am I fertile? If so, do I want kids? Do I try? If not, do I just have a melt down and opt for a hysterectomy earlier than 40 years old? Will I have other side effects from chemo and radiation down the road? What impact will reconstruction have on my life?

Cancer doesn’t end at chemo. It never ends for me. It is in my genes. Cancer is part of my life now. Cancer be dumb like that. So dumb. For real.

Oh and random piece of information: I have a surprise announcement for you all next Thursday. STAY TUNED! HEHEHE.

Today’s song lyrics of the day are brought to you by Bee Gees.

“And we’re stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive
Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive
Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin’ alive
Oh, when you walk

Well now, I get low and I get high
And if I can’t get either, I really try
Got the wings of Heaven on my shoes
I’m a dancin’ man and I just can’t lose
You know it’s alright, it’s okay
I’ll live to see another day”

– Stayin Alive, Bee Gees