Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): June over? Julying! 24 days left on this chemo journey, which includes four chemo infusions, one Zoladex stomach injection, and I am sure other surprises. All of my finger nails are officially lifting, with five that have stopped leaking and are mostly lifted. The finger that took me to the emergency room is the most separated. Both of my big toes are lifting as well. I am basically falling apart and according to my sister, my lifted toes smell bad, too. Shout out to my mom and sister who gave me a pedicure today! My toes are in poor shape.

TO THE SHORT VERSION!

They said I would have good days and I would have bad days. I think “bad” is subjective and I know that my bad days could be a lot worse, but things are getting harder. My energy is not bouncing back as quickly. I feel achy, not in a flu way but my muscles feel worn out. Like it took me 43 minutes to do a 30 minute workout this morning. Fuck. I feel so fucking weak. I feel like I have lost like 30% of my hand coordination. I drop things a lot. My hands run into walls which hurt my lifted nails. I can’t feel the tips of my fingers. Basic activities are getting harder to do. I officially cannot open cat can lids or do dishes. It is hard not to feel depressed being trapped in a body that you know is capable of so much, but currently is at its limits.

I went to a friend’s birthday party this weekend. It was outdoors and it was 70’s summer camp theme. Fun right? She had so many fun game stations set up outside for guests to play at: corn hole, standing foursquare, hula hooping, creating beaded bracelets. I couldn’t participate in any of them except for the temporary tattoo station. I put so many butterfly tattoos on my leg! It was cool. But also being there was depressing as fuck. I wanted to do the zip line, but was worried my hands would give out holding on to the handles while gliding down. I wanted to play games and have fun, instead I was on the side lines in a chair sipping on my water. It was a rude reminder of the mercy cancer does not have. I don’t care if it doesn’t last forever. That provides little comfort in my day to day existence these days.

I went for a small walk alone yesterday and kind of just… cried. It has been a while since I have pity cried. I am so tired of having cancer. I can’t do shit. My body is just tired and falling apart. And it is hard to find ending chemo as a consolation prize knowing I get my boobs chopped off next, followed by getting lasered up like some rotisserie chicken. These are not winning outcomes for me, well aside from potentially hearing I am in remission. I know that is the goal and it is great, but everything it takes to get there is so fucking hard. It feels like it might not ever come.

So I am going to take the evening to wallow in my sadness and then tomorrow keep moving forward. Thanks for listening.

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

“We are human after all
Flesh uncovered after all
We are human after all
Flesh uncovered after all

– Human After All, Daft Punk

Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): Today was chemo number twelve! FOUR CHEMOS LEFT! I REPEAT FOUR CHEMOS LEFT! It is hard to believe I have endured 16 weeks of this shit. I cannot believe I made it this far, but the next four weeks will kick my ass. My body is breaking down. My fingers are numb; my nails are falling off. My chemo brain is entering a higher gear. Energy is low. My white blood cell count and neutrophils were low today, but I am not getting injections to boost me, so if you are sick or are around folks who have been or are sick, please DO NOT SEE ME. Be right back as I enter hiding the next four weeks. I don’t want that COVID strain that is going around. It may just kill me or put me in the ER or hospital and delay treatment. Wash your hands folks and stay vigilant!

TO THE LONG VERSION!

I have discovered the secret to fixing my constipation: eat a shit ton of corn, nectarines, and cherries! Bye bye Miralax! The summer fruits are out to save my butt hole!

I also discovered two other things today: I do not have fingerprints anymore and chemotherapy is made to order when I am at the cancer center. Yup! Today was loaded full of delightful fun facts. The more you know. More on that here in a minute.

Do you believe that who you meet has a purpose and that their timing is destiny or at least meant to be when it happens? I do and it has not been more crystal clear than now as I reflect on my life in this very moment that everyone who is part of this narrative is meant to be here. There is an intricate web of connections that are bridging moments with the right people I need to meet and be with at this time. And let me tell you it is damn beautiful. It is the sun emerging in the middle of the storm to remind me that despite all the stupid fucked up shit I am experiencing, there are also some beautiful things that are only possible because of this experience.

I started my morning connecting with someone who had breast cancer during the pandemic. She was the second AYA (adolescent and young adult) I have met that is my age. The conversation was heavy, but educational. She really knows her shit! I feel like I need to do more research! But I walked away feeling seen, heard, and ready to learn more from her. I am just saying that if any of you get cancer, be a mentor or a friend after treatment if you have capacity to do so. I cannot wait to share this information with someone else to help them survive treatment. Access to information is empowering and she was just the friend I needed to talk to today.

We left for my blood labs 30 minutes early just in case I needed to do tPA to get my port accessible to give blood. If you remember last week’s ordeal, I had a menty b (mental breakdown slang) because I had to get my blood drawn from my arm and you all know I FUCKING HATE NEEDLES. I sobbed the whole time. So because I am a planner, we went early today because I hate wasting people’s time. Of course Harry Porter and the Prisoner of Cancerban was a good little port and finally spilled the blood with ease. We avoided a tPA moment and befriended a nurse (who I knew from high school but she had no idea who I was aside from being a patient there) who told me I am like the cancer center celebrity. Everyone is always talking about me, my stickers, and wanting me as a patient. Y’all….. how do I capture the essence of this and use it in moments when interviewers or people who are meeting me for the first time ask me to describe myself. “Yeah so basically I am kind of like a big deal. Everyone at the cancer center was obsessed with me and thought I am really cool. It appears I am the kind of person you want to know.” SOLD????

But also that is literally like nicest compliment on the planet. To be loved in this capacity is an indescribable feeling. Despite me wanting to end chemo because poison in my body is hard, I will be devastated and depressed without my nurses and other cancer center staff every week. They’ve become pillars of strength in my life, my emotional support humans. They make chemo worth going to, along with my rotating emotional support humans I bring with me to chemo.

Today’s emotional support human was my friend Rosie. We got to experience a rare snack day! The snack bar had some new snacks including cookies and some sort of “pastry crisp” whatever that means. But the cran grape juice was back (that has been gone for WEEKS) and we got treated to two types of guacamoles for chemocuterie. Fancy!

One of my AYA cancer friends came by and delivered some fresh cherries, too! That was a TREAT. More slick poos for me! My favorite saying during cherry season is, “I am one cherry away from chorro.” And for the folks who don’t speak Spanish, you might have already guessed “chorro” is diarrhea and you are correct. But do NOT get “chorro” and “churro” confused. One is a delicious snack covered in cinnamon sugar and the other… well, you know.

SHITTY SEGWAY TO RANDOM PHOTOS INTERMISSION!

Many of my favorite nurses came by the party pod to say hello, give hugs, and check in. Again, I feel so loved by so many people it is INSANE. I want to bottle up these feelings and put them in a jar for when I am insanely depressed and feel like I have no friends. We are planning a chemocuterie and potato party to say “TA TA to my TATAS” in August. That may be the most exciting party I will ever attend. All my favorite nurses in a room full of cheese and potatoes?! YES PLEASE.

I just rhymed!

I also am contemplating a “Christmas in July” decor theme for my chemo pod the next couple of weeks. If I have energy, I need to find some Christmas lights and a star for my IV pole, maybe some clings for the walls? I don’t know. I kind of like my rainbow shit, though. Is rainbow Christmas a thing? I am giving myself more work. I need to stop.

Okay so I want to circle back to the fingerprints and chemo fun facts we learned today. When I was chatting with my first AYA friend this morning before chemo, she mentioned how chemo took away her fingerprints. And in that moment a light bulb went off in my head: I have a fingerprint reader on my phone and it has been having issues lately. I thought my phone was broken and so I looked down at my fingers and what do I see? I HARDLY HAVE A FINGER PRINT ANYMORE. WUT. I was stunned. SHOOK. And half jokingly I told this girl (that I just met for the first time), “Wow I could get away with killing someone!” She didn’t respond to that so I feel awkward now. I need to tell her I listen to a lot of Crime Junkie and I am in fact not a killer. Stay sexy and don’t get murdered!

Secondly, we were chatting with my pod nurse today and learned that all chemos are made to order! My chemo every week goes through a checklist of people who have to approve my blood results and vitals and other information before the pharmacist can take action and cook up my bag of chemo. Literally, there are people going all “Breaking Bad” on this shit in the building! I literally had NO IDEA and that explains why the pharmacy is sometimes running behind. My carboplatin chemo always comes out before taxol because it is easier to make! Again, shook. When you think you know it all, YOU DON’T. And honestly I would love to see the process. That seems so rad.

So goals this week: Don’t get sick, don’t end up in the ER, and make it to chemo number thirteen. Got it. Oh and eat a lot of cherries. Poop town here I come!

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

“The highs and the lows
The highs, the lows

I’m an emotional rollercoaster (ah)
With highs so high, could put Bol Bol on a poster (mm)
But when the bread get low like four loaves in a toaster
Or the shoulders can get cold as ten toes in Nova Scotia”

– The Highs & The Lows, Chance the Rapper, Joey Bada$$

Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): THERE ARE ONLY FOUR CHEMO TREATMENTS LEFT! FOUR! One, I am very excited for this journey to end because chemo is kicking my ass. Two, I am depressed for this journey to end because it means not seeing my nurse friends once a week AND I am that much closer to getting my breasts chopped off. Yup, I lose both of my breasts in like six weeks, probably. F U C K. I know we all wanted to forget that horrifically sad detail.

TO THE LONG VERSION!

I was in 7th grade the first time I lost my big toe nails. I was trying out for the basketball team and I didn’t have sneakers and I thought the Nike sneakers my mom had were SO cool, so I wore those to tryouts. They were a grayish silver with a big red “N” on the side. Now that I am pondering this, I wonder if they were actually New Balances? Nike doesn’t put N’s on shoes…. well anyway. The thing is my mom is like at least a half size smaller than me in shoe sizes, which I did not factor into this decision. I just wanted to wear cool looking shoes, which by the way were not meant for sports. Basically the whole time in tryouts you are jumping and catching the ball and my toes kept slamming into the front of the shoe, ultimately damaging the nails and lifting them. I wore cool shoes for nothing because I ended up on like the C team I think and my nails began their nasty transformation of falling off. Womp womp.

Because I was a fucking weirdo (still am) I did my best to preserve my toe nails falling off. If you’ve never lost a toe nail, basically it lifts and a new nail will form underneath and it kind of just sits there like a weird turtle shell. And the new nail is so fascinating! Mine kind of reminded me of an oyster shell with those interesting waves and layers. Anyway, the old nail is basically dead and in my case, was still hanging on to the nail bed which I was fine with because it gave the illusion that I still had a fully formed toe nail. I remember the nail on my right toe was fully intact, but was hanging on like the cover of a book. I gently ended up removing it and well…. I was so impressed with myself that I saved my toe nail in a box for many years. I don’t know why I did that? It was a weird keepsake and it ended up finally meeting the trash can when I cleaned out my room before we moved after my senior year of high school.

I am now losing my big toe nails again and six of my ten finger nails are currently in various stages of falling off. I can see my right toe once again has almost fully lifted, along with my right thumb. The biggest differences from the experience I had in 7th grade and now are that I am not able to grow new nails right now since chemo is killing a lot of my cell growth and I also will NOT be keeping my nails when they fall off. I promise I will throw them away, but not until I have observed the shit out of them. I guess I am still a weird freaky kid. How often do you get to see your nails fall off intact?! It is a rarity indeed.

Okay all jokes aside, my nails are fucking nasty these days. Don’t look at my feet or my hands, please. I am disgraced! I feel like a puffer fish. My ER finger is looking better, but is still gross and leaky. Like last night it was especially leaky and I literally flexed my finger and strange juice came out of it. It squirted across the floor! It kind of looks like baby snot and smells like a dirty belly button. You know exactly what I am talking about. And if you don’t, you should touch your belly button right now.

I have lost most of the ability to button clothing, open containers, pick the black heads on my face, tie my shoes, pull my retainer out of my mouth, wash dishes, and pick the dead skin off my feet. Between the neuropathy in my fingers and my nails falling off, my hands feel rather useless to me now. The next four weeks are going to suck hard.

I just need to survive four more weeks.

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

“They’re playing basketball (uh all around the world)
We love that basketball (uh to the beat y’all)
They’re playing basketball (let’s go, all around the world)
We love that basketball (this is so so dat)”

– Basketball (feat. Jermaine Dupri, Fabolous, & Fundisha), Bow Wow

I am 30 years old with stage 3a breast cancer, unverified stage 4. What I knew when I was diagnosed was that I would get treatment and had a great chance of entering remission, with “curative” marked as the goal of my treatment plan. I knew I would lose both of my breasts because I tested positive for the BRCA1 gene. I knew I would lose my hair. I knew this journey would be fucking hard. What I didn’t know was the impact of treatment like chemotherapy, surgery, and radiation can not only end a current pregnancy and/or cause extreme complications, but can also impact my ability to bear children in the future. I will have a hysterectomy by the time I am 40. There is a very high chance that my treatment will leave me barren, but at the same time a pregnancy during treatment would result in me needing an abortion.  ⁣⁣
 ⁣⁣
Today, Roe v. Wade was overturned by the United States Supreme Court, overturning a decades long precedent ensuring a woman’s right to bodily autonomy by accessing legal and safe abortion services. It will have catastrophic consequences for women of children bearing age like me with a cancer diagnosis. Imagine a woman finding out she is pregnant during her cancer treatment or prior to her treatment, in need of an abortion, and prosecuted for the side effects of cancer treatment essentially criminalizing cancer.  

According to the Washington State Department of Health’s Facebook post, “Abortion was legal in Washington state before Roe v Wade, has been legal here for more than 50 years, and remains legal now. Washington state has a long history of supporting the full spectrum of reproductive rights and will continue to do so. At the Washington State Department of Health, we work to make sure that sexual and reproductive health services are available across the state.” I realize that while I live in this state with our existing governor, these services will remain accessible, but I fear for the future. I fear that there could be a time when these services are removed.
 ⁣⁣
I recognize that my specific story is just a small example of the many reasons women seek abortion services, but the conversation around fertility has been a large one during my treatment. I receive a hormone blocker once a month that has caused me to enter chemically induced menopause. My ovaries are currently shut down and I no longer make estrogen, for my cancer is hormone positive and feeds off of that hormone. But I am still at risk of becoming pregnant during treatment. If I become pregnant during treatment, I will need an abortion. Period.

Cancer has taken so much from me. It has taken away so many of the choices I can make about my own healthcare and body for the rest of my life. It is horrific and I wrestle with that every day. But I also believe that no other human being has the right to take away someone else’s choice with their own body. Bodily autonomy is so important. Abortion is healthcare. ⁣⁣The removal of access to safe abortions will not stop abortions. Women will die.

Special thank you to my friend Heather for helping me capture this image. I have altered the previous narrative I wrote for it the first time I shared it on Instagram to match the updates with Roe v. Wade.

Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): Today was an emotional chemo session, but chemo eleven is in the books. Five chemos to go! Harry Porter was a little bitch and didn’t give blood and it was a Zoladex day. I am drained.

TO THE LONG VERSION!

The first thing I do every morning is scan my body. How am I feeling? What hurts? What feels normal, if anything? Did I sleep well? Mood? Dreams?

I go through my morning routine. I attempt to poop, put in my eyes (my contacts), feed the cats, and hopefully get in a 30 minute exercise session. I go through the motions of benign tasks that masquerade as being normal. I find comfort in the mundane tasks of life these days. It is mindless work that has purpose on a cellular level and I am grateful I am functional to do it. In those moments, I don’t feel or think about my cancer. I feel a glimpse of the past version of me. Do I dare to say that I feel somewhat normal?

But then I have moments like today at chemo, where I look up at my IV pole to see how much of the drug is left in my bag and I realize that I have cancer. I have fucking cancer. I am at the cancer center receiving my weekly dose of life saving drugs as I hold hands with the reaper. I walk through the shadow of death every day, disguising my fear and anger and pain with basic tasks to just feel alive.

The last 24 hours have been hard. I pretend that they aren’t as a coping mechanism. The emotions compound. The chemo compounds. Everything is getting harder. Harry Porter wouldn’t give blood today and there was not enough time to keep trying so I was sent to the lab across from the lab that does blood draws from ports to get it drawn from my arm. I cried the whole time. I was mad at my port, mad at my body, and anxious because it just feels like a lot has been going wrong. And if you’ve followed the blog long enough, you know about my needle phobia. Some people might say I am being dramatic or that needles aren’t a big deal, but all of this is overwhelming for me sometimes. I hate needles. I hate fucking cancer. I just want this nightmare to end.

Someone at the beginning of my treatment said that it might be a silver lining for me that my needle phobia will lessen because I will encounter them so often. I wish that was true, but it feels traumatic every time I have to deal with one. It is a constant reminder of how sick I am and how much I hate to be poked like a Thanksgiving turkey.

Also, I had a feeling my hormone blocker shot was on the menu today and indeed it was. Nurse Christie nailed the delivery of the injection, but it left me again teary. I am so fucking sick of needles in my stomach!

On the bright side, I had some amazing emotional support humans (and dolphins?) today to support me and carry me through treatment. Those are my silver linings and that makes surviving purely out of spite possible. My emotional support human brought inflatable dolphins, a new rainbow heart banner, and delicious fruity pebble rice krispies to chemo today. We called pod number three the party pod today. Several of my favorite nurses stopped by for a treat and to ask me about my finger. Despite all of this fucking shit, they made my day.

Photo intermission! We love a rainbow moment.

I am drained. Currently there is a growth factor injection on my schedule tomorrow. I chatted with the nurses about it today and they will contact me tomorrow to confirm whether or not I need it. My numbers were good today and technically I don’t need it, but I am not sure if my oncologist just put it there assuming my numbers would drop again or if she just wants to maintain higher numbers. Please standby as we wait to find out if I get another fucking stomach shot tomorrow.

My finger is feeling better for the record. After I publish this post, I am going to soak the other fingers in water and Epsom salt to help encourage draining to avoid another infection. My body seems to just be infection prone. And then I will sleep. I am drained from crying and enduring. I don’t want to be “brave” anymore today.

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

“Always more to sacrifice
Insatiable appetite
When you look in the mirror
And there’s no one that you recognize
Now that you’ve been sacrificed
I know that you’re looking, looking for paradise

– My Blood, AlunaGeorge, ZHU

Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): Tomorrow is chemo day! Woo…. Today I ended up in the ER for my finger. It just became too painful and we had to drain that bitch! Today is a short post, so if you are into semi gory details and you like cyst videos, this might be a fun read for you.

TO THE LONG VERSION!

I have decided that chemo has increasing levels of intensity, kind of like the gyms Ash Ketchum would have to fight in Pokémon. You start off at a basic ass gym and there is like a really stupid Metapod you take on. No biggie. You destroy his ass. Metapod is a loser. And then at the next gym, there is like a Voltorb, so you know things are starting to get interesting. And you keep going until you’re lost in a dark ass cave battling it out with Mewtwo and you keep dying, but luckily you saved your game so you can easily come back each time to keep trying, but that shit is hard. You end up in a Pokémon Center because you died and blacked out. Rip. The game isn’t over, but you know things are really fucking hard. You need to weaken and defeat Mewtwo!

So my breast cancer is basically Mewtwo and if anything I just said to you makes zero sense, I am really sorry. I definitely was transported back to my life as a young one playing Pokémon with my sister on our Gameboys on our way to the ocean. But it was all I could think about today when I ended up in the ER for the third time during this ~delightful~ cancer experience. The farther I get into treatment, the harder things are getting and obviously the risk of things fucking up for me get higher. I am not having fun.

Okay so we all saw my fingers in my last post. If you haven’t yet, go look at them, those ugly little swollen rotten hot dogs. I briefly discussed how swollen my finger was last night. I got my antibiotics around 10:45 pm last night and I took one pill before bed in hopes that I could start the healing process and destroy the infection. I dreamed all night that I was cured but woke up with my finger more swollen and tender. I tried to ignore it and tell myself I was okay, but by 11 am at work, I knew it was time to go to the ER and take care of this problem. So I called my best friend and we galloped into the sunset after I shoved a handful of Cheese Its into my mouth.

The ER was lit. I did my best to use my cancer card to get a room quickly. I am just saying if you ever get cancer and need to go to the ER, use your literal and figurative cancer card. The two people across from us in the waiting room refused to wear their masks normally and I was THIS CLOSE to telling them to pull their masks up because I have cancer. I mean I basically play a game every time I go to the ER and try to guess why everyone else is there. And honestly, just because they seemed fine made me feel extremely suspicious. I didn’t want them to get me sick. Do they wonder why I am there? Is it obvious I am a cancer patient with a turban, wearing a nice dress and earrings to the ER? I think my anxiety makes me think weird thoughts. Also it is a fun game to pass the time.

We ended up with a room relatively quickly and our PA (Cade) was super awesome and funny. Ultimately we agreed it was time to drain my finger, but not before we got a little education on the two types of infection that could be happening in my finger: paronychia or felon. According to American Family Physician, “Paronychia, which can be acute or chronic, is an infection or inflammation of the nail fold. Treatment involves warm soaks, topical antibiotics, and abscess drainage, if indicated. A felon is an infection of the distal pulp of the finger. Treatment often involves surgical drainage and oral antibiotics.” I luckily was still in the paronychia phase, but I was on my way to be a felon. This infection was a crime against the humanity of my finger! And honestly we all should be glad I did not have a felon because the process to drain that involved a scalpel going through my finger sideways through and through. Hard pass.

So we numbed a bitch up (right at the base of my finger) and Sue held my other hand tightly as Cade released the Kraken! I refused to watch but Sue likened the experience to an excellent cyst video on YouTube. The pressure was so immense blood sprayed out and Cade had to dodge the chunks and fluid that was released. It sounded impressive and incredibly gross that my finger had that power! And at some point he dug a needle under my nail, which I semi felt and did not appreciate. But the relief…. oh sweet relief! I ended up with a blood sprayed blanket and a relieved finger and I got to have ice cream after surviving another fuckening.

So I am still typing like a five year old but my finger is feeling less sketchy. I told Cade I hope I don’t return, but would definitely recommend his drainage skills on Yelp and would ask for him again if I had another rogue fingernail, which is very possible at this point. I’d endorse that skill on his LinkedIn. He was awesome.

Today I took on another “gym boss” like in Pokémon and I defeated it. We get closer and closer to the final gym aka my last day of chemo and I just wonder what kind of fuckery is left for me to encounter? I don’t think I am being pessimistic when I say that, but rather a realist because just when you think you’ve seen it all and survived it all, your finger could get swollen and want to kill you. Just another day in the life of a cancer patient I guess!

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

“A lotta guys try to catch her
But she leads them on a wild goose chase now
(You drive like an ace now, you drive like an ace)

And she’ll have fun fun fun
‘Til her daddy takes the T-bird away
(Fun fun fun ’til her daddy takes the T-bird away)”

– Fun, Fun, Fun, Beach Boys

Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): We are two days away from chemo number eleven! Six chemos left! My right middle finger is now officially infected, with what I can only guess is some sort of fungus or maybe corn found me like I feared? Just kidding. But I am in pain and it has taken me three times longer than normal to write this post. I need to hire someone to write for me for now. Rip. I am also paranoid about losing my finger?

TO THE SHORT VERSION!

One of my favorite movies is “Shrek.” I think it has some of the funniest and most quotable content. “IN THE MORNING, I’M MAKING WAFFLES!” Like, I say that every time I make waffles and I only hear Eddie Murphy’s voice in my head when I think of that quote. I also love the soundtrack. “Accidentally in Love” by Counting Crows is perfection. I actually think that is from “Shrek 2” but whatever. I wish I could say that song could be the soundtrack to my life, but it isn’t. However, it could be if we changed the title to “Accidentally Infected” because guess who has another infection?! Yup, the fuckening is back, literally 61 days since the last fuckening! I am happy to report that the fuckening is not happening on my head, but instead happening on my fingers. Okay, I am not happy but I guess it is a small step up from having a head infection.

This post has taken me way longer than normal to type. My middle finger is incredibly swollen and in a ton of pain. You’d be surprised how much typing involves your middle finger. I dare you to go type right now and pay attention to how instrumental that finger is. My finger looks like a rotten hot dog that sat in the way back in a dark corner of your fridge next to that bag of shredded cheese you forgot about. It is swollen and weirdly green. I would say my finger looks like Shrek’s but honestly that is disrespectful to him. At least his are healthy and normal.

I called the triage nurse today but I called too late. I called at 4:30 pm (they close at 5 pm) because I was in meetings all day and did not prioritize myself to make time to call earlier. I told her my symptoms and what was going on and wanted to know if I should go to the ER. I even took my temperature over the phone to see if I was having a total body reaction to the localized infection. My temp was normal. The moment I told her about the coloring and how swollen it was, she asked to call me back to contact my oncologist. I waited about 14 minutes and she called with a minute to spare before 5 pm. Definitely an infection and the PA prescribed some antibiotics since my oncologist was gone. It is 9:35 pm and my prescription is still not filled and my finger is THROBBING. I hope it makes it through the night.

I really hope this is the last fuckening I have to deal with on chemo. It is really annoying when other parts of my body are trying to take me out, as if my cancer infected right boob was not enough. First an ingrown hair and now a mindless nail bed. Cancer be dumb.

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

“How much longer will it take to cure this
Just to cure it ’cause I can’t ignore it if it’s love (love)
Makes me want to turn around and face me
But I don’t know nothing about love, oh”

– Accidentally in Love, Counting Crows

Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): We surpassed chemo number ten! We have six weeks of chemo left! Fuuuuuuuuuck. My nails are getting worse. It is harder and harder for me to type. However, no back pain as of yet which is a great sign because I would rather not be able to open a mayo jar than be laying in extreme pain on my bed. This week is all about taking deep breaths and relaxing. I promised myself I would keep my schedule LIGHT this week so that I can “fully” recover before chemo on Thursday. Oh, and the Madison & Friends charity art fundraiser went swimmingly! What a way to kick off my 30s!

TO THE LONG VERSION!

The first time this year that I felt like I was experiencing a scene in a movie was on February 21. It was an out of body experience. The rain was falling hard. I was crying in my car, listening to the nurse practitioner give me the news I had breast cancer. It was numbing and unreal. No matter how hard I wanted to rewind that moment, it would have happened anyway. Maybe I wouldn’t be in my car, maybe I wouldn’t be 29, but breast cancer was in my cards. It is in my genes. So I cried and listened to the rain cry with me. The world felt just as sad as I did. How cinematic.

The second time this year I have experienced my life as a movie was on Friday for the Madison & Friends charity art fundraiser. Instead of numbing shock and pain, I was full of joy and laughs. I was blinded by the sequins on my dress. I embraced friends and the stories of strangers who had loved ones with cancer stories. I walked around the room and felt hope. It was the kind of hope like at the end of a superhero movie that you clap for or when a plane lands after insane turbulence. You’re just happy to be alive.

The version of me four months ago is so proud of present me, although we both can agree that we DO NOT recommend other cancer patients plan a massive fundraiser while undergoing treatment. I mean you totally can and I will always be the first one to raise my hand to help, but I think you may be better off taking care of yourself and throwing a fundraiser later. But I did it anyways. It was something I really wanted to do and I have zero regrets planning. Life is SO short. I wanted to throw myself an unforgettable party with purpose and nobody knows how to throw a party better than me. Well, my mom does. She is an excellent party host and I learned directly from her. People thought I was a little mad in the head, and it was a lot of work and exhausting, but it accomplished what I wanted and I would do it again in a heartbeat. I probably will, to be honest.

A lot of things did not go as planned on Friday. The perfectionist in me is still raging and picking over what failed. However, a lot of things went right! We raised over $5,000 for the Tri-Cities Cancer Center Foundation, we sold almost all of the art that was hung, everyone seemed to have a decent time, and there was even food left over at the night for me to enjoy. I think I could have done a better job at telling folks there were tamales available though, so I do apologize if you didn’t know there was food. The music was FANTASTIC, the performances were engaging, and I loved seeing so many people from the various seasons of my life there. It is one of the few times in my life where I felt like I was exactly where I should be. And if you went, I hope you felt that way, too.

PHOTO INTERMISSION! Please text me your photos because I shockingly took none the entire night. IRONIC given I am a photographer. Ooops.

It comes as NO surprise that an event like that took me out. Literally all day Saturday and Sunday I was incapacitated. All I had to do was sit down on the couch and my blanket would whisper sweet nothings into my body as I lulled myself to sleep for hours on end. No more parties for me for a while! I am glad I had a three day weekend to bounce back. Today I finally feel less fatigued and functional.

Now that the event is over, I have sworn that I will coast through the rest of treatment but I can already feel myself wondering what is next? I want to keep creating! I can’t help myself. I don’t like sitting still and watching TV. I need to make some art or plan an event or do something. Does anyone need help with anything??? Maybe I will feel differently when I have to go to work tomorrow and I will realize that work is enough. I don’t need to keep doing more. Maybe I should make time for one on one visits with friends. I have so many folks I need to connect with right now and check in with. And people I want to have dinner parties with! I love dinner.

For those of you who have offered so much support and love and help to me for this event, during this event, and even after, thank you. I have so much gratitude for all the sparkly friends in my life who are gracious and kind with their time. It is a long list but I think it is a great use of my blog space to thank people for helping me out.

Thank you Sue for helping me plan this event. Despite you not being there because of sickness, you were amazing. Gina, thank you for filling in for Sue and for your amazing acroyoga talents. Rosie, thank you for helping with the art all night!! Ah you are amazing and I cannot thank you enough for how sweet you have been to me. Val, you’re my girl. Way to tell Russ what is up and for taking care of me Thursday and Friday. Sarah, thank you for sticking around almost to your bedtime on Friday and checking in with me asking if I needed anything. Such friendship. Hi mom and Cassidy! I love you both so much. Geide, Maria, Cindy, Sandra, Cristina, and Wendy thank you so much for the stunning photo booth section. It was my favorite place to hang out on Friday! To Heather and Luke for helping with check-ins and last minute details, I appreciate you both. To my potato Sarah for helping me secure all of the donations and just being a wonderful potato friend, I love you. My dearest Amy and Rachel, THANK YOU FOR MAKING ME THE MOST MAGICAL OUTFIT AND WIG OF ALL TIME. Seriously, you two I owe you the world. You both empowered me in such a beautiful way. Shout out to Ana for my custom gorgeous necklace! LOBA FOR LIFE. And we had dozens of hands helping with the installations of the art and the taking down of the art, but I am thankful for every single one of those hands. And to Ashleigh for helping curate and install the art, thank you for your endless expertise. I am forever indebted to you.

Most importantly, thank you to every artist and every single person who came out to support the event and be part of the magic. I am grateful that we came together to support the cancer center. Cancer fucking sucks, but it sucks less because I have all of you. So thank you. I will need to count how many artists participated in the show and get back to you all on that. I think we had like 40 artists if I remember right???

I feel like I forgot some folks in that thank you paragraph, so I am really sorry. Please yell at me if I forgot you and I will update the paragraph. Basically I am just humbled and grateful for the opportunity to throw a fundraiser at this time in my life. Now back to my nap!

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

“Hold on to what you got
Let go of what you’re not
Hold on to what you’ve got

Livin’ ain’t easy
Call if you need me
Livin’ ain’t easy
Call if you need me”

– Call If You Need Me, Galantis

Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): I am in extreme pain. Like it is getting harder for me to mask the amount of pain I am in. These are side effects of my growth factor injections and my chemos. Like holy fuck. The red devil side effects weren’t nearly this bad. We are three days away from my event and I just keep hoping for a miracle that my body will cooperate. I didn’t get any planning done for my event tonight due to pain. Hopefully tomorrow I have it in me to go to the distance and get this shit done.

TO THE LONG VERSION!

Murphy’s fucking Law. According to Wikipedia, “Murphy’s law is an adage or epigram that is typically stated as: “Anything that can go wrong will go wrong.” In some formulations, it is extended to “Anything that can go wrong will go wrong, and at the worst possible time.” I have planned enough events in my lifetime, both big and small, to know that this law is to be expected. You don’t have a plan b, maybe a plan c if you’re extra like me? You might as well fuck off.

This week Murphy’s Law is in full effect for Friday’s event. My connect for aguas frescas did not come through. We acquired less wine than anticipated. My best friend / emcee / right hand person is now sick and will be out for the count. Oh and I am in EXTREME pain because of my fucking chemo and bone pain from the growth factor injections. I am in so much pain that today at work I bent over and just about passed out. I think that also could be from the fact I am also anemic. BUT STILL. This pain is a gazillion times worse than the red devil. One of my really good friends / old roommate’s dog just died and another amazing friend’s brother passed away. So yeah. Things really suck right now.

The good news (which feels awful to say because everything feels really heavy right now) is that I ordered two 5 gallon jugs and have amazing friends who have offered to help with the aguas frescas issue. I told my mom about my wine issue and she reached out to her fabulous network of friends and we are now back to having enough wine for the winos in my life. I can’t fix my best friend, but I am asking my other best friend how comfortable she feels talking to a large audience. And bone pain? I don’t know how to get around that one but I did just take a CBD gummy. (CBD update: It didn’t really help.)

There are several moments in my day that I forget I am a cancer patient. I just get so wrapped up in my work and I pretend I can do everything I normally would do without cancer. But when I got home tonight, the mask fell and I broke down in tears. My tears fall differently these days. They feel heavier. They remind me of the dark rain clouds that brood in the sky waiting to unleash everything they have been carrying for miles. I let my tears fall in that same way. I let myself feel how hurt I am. I grieve for the version of me that was not in constant pain. I take a second to remind myself that I cannot do it all. I have cancer. It isn’t my identity and it isn’t for forever (I hope), but it is a fact I cannot escape. And right now I am not okay. So I let myself not be okay for a bit. I am still not okay, but I am a little better.

I had to go in to the cancer center today for my last growth factor shot and after, I made a bee line for the snack bar, naturally. Hot Nurse Megan stopped me and told me she had a little birthday gift for me. Me?? How lucky! When she gave me it, she pulled something out of the bag: the socks she wore when she underwent treatment. Little tears started to swell up in me, but I really tried to keep my cool. They are pink and white striped, with the saying “Keep calm and fight on.” I didn’t have a lot of time to reflect on this until I got home, but fuck. I am fighting cancer. She fought cancer. My mom fought cancer. My family members are fighting cancer. And I really hope we make it. I want us all to make it. And the fact that someone who doesn’t know me that well thought of me and wants me to keep fighting, there just aren’t any words to describe that feeling. Cancer has no mercy, so neither will I.

So despite Murphy’s Law, we keep fighting in all respects.

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

“‘Cause it makes me that much stronger
Makes me work a little bit harder
Makes me that much wiser
So thanks for making me a fighter
Made me learn a little bit faster
Made my skin a little bit thicker
Makes me that much smarter
So thanks for making me a fighter”

– Fighter, Christina Aguilera

Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): I’ve been MIA all week from the blog. I apologize for my lack of writing. I’ve been in a lot of pain this week. The side effects have been kicking my ass! Whatever energy I have after work has been spent on me sleeping or just attempting to survive as a cancer patient with a full time job and responsibilities at home. I made it to chemo number nine this past week. We have seven chemos left and honestly they cannot end fast enough. My body is falling apart. I also turned 30, which felt anticlimactic in the grand scheme of things. Chemo number ten is this Thursday and my long anticipated charity art fundraiser is Friday.

TO THE LONG VERSION!

Existing this week has been fucking hard. Life doesn’t stop just because I have cancer. Everyone is like, “Why don’t you rest more? Why don’t you take more time for yourself?” It is hard to choose recovery and healing when capitalism runs the world and you have two demanding cats who are constantly up to no good. I’ve been drowning in pain and a never ending list of things to do. I’m exhausted and my body feels like it is decomposing. No, like literally. My thumbs smell like death right now because the nails are lifting off the nail beds. I was rubbing my eyes this week and I was like what is that awful smell?! I thought maybe I forgot to wash my hands after cleaning the litter box or doing dishes. You know sometimes the dish sponge smells a little ~off.~ It took me four days to realize the smell is coming from my thumbs. I am the smell.

I feel fucking disgusting.

And you can literally see the lift between the skin and the nail now. I just hope like a little bug or a piece of corn doesn’t get trapped in there or something. I am not sure how or why I think corn might get in there since I don’t encounter a lot of corn kernels these days, but it is a weird fear of mine now. Keep your corn away from me!

Since we are on the topic of how disgusting my body is on chemo, my feet and palms are peeling and I am constantly swollen. My fingers look like dollar store hot dogs (you know the kind… sketchy and not sure what kind of meat is really inside of the casings.) I feel incredibly uncomfortable in my own skin and very very ugly. Self esteem is like negative two right now.

Combine those symptoms with extreme back pain (thanks chemo!) and now bone pain (will explain why I have bone pain again here in a minute) and I am just a shell of a fucking human being. Seven weeks to go.

Okay so bone pain. I know, we thought we were past this. So somehow between last week and this week’s chemo, my white blood cell count PLUMMETED. I was once a stable potato and now I am a very immunocompromised potato. My oncologist was not pleased with that update in my blood work, so I am getting daily growth factor injections for three days. Remember I would get those on Fridays after the red devil? It is a fun little shot in my stomach (My favorite! NOT!) and it helps my bone marrow create more white blood cells. Downside is bone pain. And as I type not only do my nails hurt because ~I aM dYiNg~ but I also have extreme bone pain localized in my neck and hips. Love this journey for me.

My oncologist was also once again not impressed with the reduction of my tumor in my breast. Granted, she is just saying that based on her hand exam, but I trust she has touched enough breast tumors in her lifetime that she knows what she is talking about. She threatened me with a third chemo drug, but will decide on the fate of that threat when I see her in three weeks. I get it, she is on my side and my breast cancer is an aggressive fucking bitch, so she is being aggressive back to it. But my body is the battleground and this war is getting harder. Why can’t my breast cancer be nice and just succumb to treatment? Why does it have to be stubborn like me???

So basically I am in constant pain. You see me functioning, but I want you to know I am in pain. I don’t have PFMLA days to spare to take a day off to just be in pain. I need those for my double mastectomy surgery so I am hoarding them. Technically I do have vacation and sick time, but I feel like I already miss a lot of work for chemo. This is a very complex dynamic that I don’t feel like getting into right now. Let’s end this blog post on a less emo note.

FRIDAY! CHARITY ART FUNDRAISER! IT IS HAPPENING. I am panicking. I have so much left to do for it! And the state of my being is dwindling so I just need to make it through Friday and then I can collapse and not worry about anything else for the rest of treatment. I am so excited for the event, but also dreading how fucking tired I am going to be. I have chemo the day before, so Friday will no doubt kick my ass.

Also, in beautiful things that have happened: Moniker Bar created a special cocktail in my honor this week: the Captain Madison. A portion of the proceeds from that cocktail were donated to the Tri-Cities Cancer Center Foundation. I wish that was something I could include on my LinkedIn about me: one time a really awesome restaurant I love made a cocktail named after me that benefited a charity. What a wonderfully rare thing to say! This cocktail should be making one final appearance the night of the fundraiser. I just need to nail down the final details for that one. Stay tuned. Also side note, I love that it was named after my social media handle. I have been “captainmadison” for over… gosh 13 years? I love that it has become part of my identity in a way. I am the captain! Yet, I am in charge of nothing. Nice.

Here are a few snaps from this week!

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

“Sasquatch, Godzilla, King Kong, Lochness
Goblin, ghoul, a zombie with no conscience
Question, what do these things all have in common?
Everybody knows I’m a motherfuckin’ monster”

– Monster, Kanye West, JAY-Z, Rick Ross, Nicki Minaj, Bon Iver