End of the year thoughts, big list

 It's been a very interesting year! Lots going on. Many changes, etc. I am thinking about how grateful I am that things have gone as well for me as they have, while also thinking about how it takes good insurance, a good in-network hospital that isn't too far away, money, an incredible in-person support system and more to be able to move through this as easily as I have. I realize how lucky I am, and I know that my experience is far from universal.

Even thinking about the sheer number of people who have helped me within the hospital and insurance system:

My gynecologist, who noticed I was due for a mammogram and pointed me to the breast center in the same hospital, since they do walk-ins
The mammogram technician
The billing support folks who got a LOT of calls from me and walked me through how things would work with my insurance
The check-in staff at the breast center
The ultrasound tech, who made a point to be the same person I saw every time I went back so I would have someone familiar as I went through a scary diagnostic process
The radiologist who spotted the lymph nodes and insisted on a biopsy
The MRI techs
The nurse navigator who helped walk me through my next steps once I got the diagnosis
The case worker my insurance company assigned me, who checks in on me every month and sends me information on things if I need them (she's a former hospice nurse and she's delightful)
The check-in staff on the main floor of the hospital
My oncologist and her nurse
My radiation oncologist and her nurse
The nuclear bone scan tech, whose wife was also going through chemo and who was very kind to me and showed me where all the parking lots were
The CT scan techs
The echocardiogram tech whose sister had cancer and wore a mask when no one else was masking
My surgeon and his nurse
The anesthesiology team
The various nurses who prepped me or called me before surgeries to make sure I knew where I was going and what I needed to do
The infusion center team
My physical therapist
My occupational therapist
The gynecological oncology team 

This is NOT a full list of the people who were part of my treatment! And I'm not even done with treatment! But I want to sort of show you how many people it takes for something like this. Just in one hospital. For one person. The sheer number of people involved in my care. It's unreal. 

I am so grateful to live in a city with a good hospital, for that hospital to be in-network, to have good insurance (thanks, COBRA), to have enough money that I never really worried about that element of this process (though I did worry about it because things can go sideways and even with a relatively low out-of-pocket max, insurance can be mysterious and all messed up), to be good at navigating phone trees and to be comfortable asking questions and pushing back on charges (this entire process would be a nightmare for people with anxiety, or people who don't have the luxury of time to sit through the long wait times on phone calls. I often look back on my customer service days and appreciate the things I learned during that time that have carried forward through my life). I am grateful for the people in my life who were there for me, from people who reached out to share advice to the people who sent me photos of their pets to the people who were part of my daily life making sure I had everything I needed.

I am so grateful for so many things. I got through the year. It sucked, it was hard, I felt bad a lot of the time, I've still got a long ways to go. But I feel good right now, and that's pretty incredible. 

tiny update

The drain holes finally healed up a couple days ago! So if you get this surgery and your drain holes take, say, three to four weeks to heal up? Very normal!

I went rollerblading today, just for a little bit. Lots of safety gear. It was so much fun. 

I'm feeling good. I'm working through the cording with my occupational therapist (I'll be in good shape for radiation, I can raise both arms, my right arm is a little tighter than the left arm due to the cording), she measured for lymphedema, and everything is looking good! No issues at this time!

Woke up with a few thoughts

 I wanted to write these down before I forgot. I was thinking about the most helpful things to me so far (I still have plenty left to do, but I think chemo and surgery were, for me, the biggest pieces of this process).

So here's a list of my best advice to anyone going through this (either directly or as part of a support system) so far:

1. Ask every question you can think of, and write everything down. If you're not comfortable with a doctor or a process, it's ok to ask for a referral or to talk to other people. You're going to be working closely with these people for a long time, and if you don't like or trust them, it's going to cause you even more stress. Don't do this. I happen to love my medical team, I feel comfortable asking them questions or pushing back on things, etc. This level of comfort makes everything easier.

2. Remember that you are more than your cancer, and you are more than your treatment. Find things that make you happy and hold on to them even when you feel terrible or your news isn't what you hoped for. You're here, you're alive, in so many ways it might not feel like it's ever going to be ok, but try to find joy where you can.

3. Get a referral for physical and occupational therapy as early as you can. You'll probably hear about it in your first consult, and even though you're going to be overwhelmed with information, if you have it in you to do this, you will not regret it. Being in PT and OT early has, I believe, made a HUGE difference in my ability to get through chemo, to get ready for surgery, and to recover from surgery. PT and OT. DO IT EARLY, DO IT REGULARLY!

4. Talk to people who have been through what you have been through. Not necessarily in a support group setting (unless that is something that appeals to you). It's really helpful to get practical advice and recommendations for post-surgery garments and strategies and things like that (or even "here is the candy that helped me deal with how saline tastes like nail polish remover" - for me, it was ginger chews). 

5. You don't have to talk about your cancer. But you can! I obviously love talking about it! It's part of my life, it's not weird or embarrassing for me, but I'm VERY weird and embarrassing so just do what you're comfortable with. NOT talking about it, to me, seemed so much more stressful. So this is what I've done. 

6. If you're getting surgery and you don't want to get reconstruction, talk to your surgeon about a flat closure (also called an aesthestic closure). I have found that surgeons, even very good ones, will leave it up to you to ask questions, and if they don't know that you want a flat closure, they won't assume that you do. I asked my surgeon about a flat closure, we talked about it, he did a great job, and I'm very happy with the way my surgical sites look. 

7. People are going to flail. A lot. They are going to want to help you and they aren't going to know what to do. Sometimes they're going to try to do things they THINK are helpful that are actually 1. not helpful 2. more work for you 3. super stressful. If possible, take these attempts in the spirit in which they are intended, but just be aware that people are going to basically get really dumb about certain things because they're freaked out and worried about you. It is OK to simultaneously appreciate that they're coming to this from a good place AND to be extremely annoyed about it. You can say no to offers of "help" that are not helpful. You can also tell people to leave you alone. Feel all the feelings. It's ok. This is not about them. This is about you. Do what you need to do to preserve your energy and your sanity. You are the expert on YOU. And you are ultimately the decision-maker on what you need in your life and what will be best for you. Don't let anyone make you feel bad about this.

8. If you love someone going through cancer stuff: Think about what you're asking of them when you offer to help, because sometimes the things you think would be helpful are actually more work for them. And if they don't accept your help or your advice, remember that they know their situation better than you do. So try not to take it personally, and just follow their lead. 

9. Be realistic about your energy levels throughout everything. Staying active is important, but rest is important. If you're feeling bad, tell your medical team. They'll have meds and strategies to share with you.

10. The people who consistently checked in just to say hi and to see how I was doing were so incredible. This tiny normal thing meant a lot to me, and helped me feel connected even while I was tired and feeling terrible. Little things like this (texts! emails! whatever!) are actually very helpful.

I still have quite a bit of stuff ahead of me, so this is not an exhaustive list. But maybe you'll find it helpful.

Officially cancer free!

 I didn't want to make anyone wade through a post to get to the big news. I saw my oncologist today, the surgery was successful, they got everything, and I'm officially cancer free!

I will still be doing radiation, I'll still get my ovaries out, I'll still be on hormone therapy for years to come, but I'm feeling good.

Surgery recovery update: I get a little less sore every day. My range of motion is still a bit limited, and I've got cording in my right arm. I saw my occupational therapist today, she's confident I'll be where I need to be to start radiation in a few weeks (I do not know when I'm officially starting radiation, but my consult is in early January), and we're going to be working on the cording between now and then. This involves a very gentle massage to loosen up the cords, and I'm still taking it pretty easy. Very gentle, limited stretches, shoulder rolls, just making sure the right shoulder (which is the tightest and sorest) doesn't freeze. 

I'm feeling better than I've felt in months and months. Maybe since my initial mammogram. It's really great. And I stopped by the infusion center (everything is in the same hospital) to share the good news with the team that helped me through chemo. Just a great day. 

Edited 1/15/26 to add: I didn't include this at the time but finding out that I had to have another surgery (for ovaries) and get an infusion for three years REALLY bummed me out. It just felt like finding out that there was a whole wing of a building that I hadn't known about that I now had to navigate. They don't tell you all the things you'll have to do at the very beginning so they don't overwhelm you, I guess? Or maybe things might change depend on how your treatment goes. But it felt devastating in the moment to have more things added on to all of the things I was already prepared to do. It was fine, ultimately! But that moment of "are you kidding me? more? I have to do even more?" was hard. So hard that I think I just left it out of the blog because it was too upsetting to be honest about at the time. 

Feeling it today

At my appointment yesterday, the surgeon mentioned that some people do really well the first couple of weeks after surgery and then feel worse in weeks three to six, because of the healing process and nerves, etc. I am finding this to be the case! I'm certainly not as uncomfortable moment to moment now that the drains are out, but the holes where they were removed are still in the process of healing up and it looks like someone stabbed me with a pencil. This is exactly as gross as it sounds. They will, apparently, close up in a few days. 

I think that in the time immediately after surgery, there's so much going on with a body that you can't really focus on where or what specifically is hurting. There's also a lot of adrenaline sort of powering you through. Now that the drains are out and the saniderm wrap (it looks like saran wrap and they put it over the whole site so you don't have to deal with dressings, which is awesome) is off, I'm able to focus on which parts of my body hurt. It's still not terrible. It's manageable with tylenol or ibuprofen at this point. It's just interesting to see the evolution of this healing process. 

It's hard to describe these sensations, but it's a little like when your whole body is cold, and you get a little numb, and then only when you start to warm back up does that coldness become painful. This is kind of (but not really) how I'm feeling, if that makes sense.

My energy level is still great (I have been warned not to overdo it because I'll go from feeling really good to feeling like I have made mistakes) and I'm not having a bad time, I'm just feeling what I've been through a little more than I was able to when I was still coming off of the initial surgery. 

Drains are out, hooray

I'm a little sore but I'm very happy to not have drains attached to me anymore! I still need to take it easy, but everything's looking good, and I'll continue to heal up over the coming weeks.

Edited to add 1/16/26: They said the drain holes would close up within a few days and this was NOT true. It took weeks. It wasn't a big deal, but because I had been told one number and it wasn't that number, I got really worried about it. There was nothing to worry about. It just takes time for tissue to fill in the holes from the drains, and you just need to keep those areas clean in the meantime. 

The various aches and pains of mastectomy and axillary lymph node dissection

 Recovery has gone smoothly, all things considered! The pain has been very manageable (I haven't even taken anything for it since the first couple of days), the drains are very manageable (though I am still hoping to get them out soon, as having drains in means that any jostling is uncomfortable), and there's tightness in various places but it's something I'm getting used to. I have some cording, which is very normal for this surgery, and I've got an appointment with my occupational therapist this week and I know she'll have some exercises for me to do to help resolve it. 

The armpit where the lymph nodes were removed is sore and also numb in various places, so I tend to try to keep my arm away from my body so I'm not putting pressure on that area. It's also swollen, which is to be expected. This is probably the most painful part of my body right now. My chest is doing pretty well (again, areas of numbness), I have an appointment with my surgeon tomorrow so hopefully things will be looking good and healing well. I can't see anything, since the incisions are covered with steristrips, which look like strips of duct tape. 

Cording, for those who don't know, is a thing that happens to a lot of people who have breast surgery, particularly when lymph nodes are involved. It looks and feels like cords under the skin, and it can be painful and restrict movement. Basically there are stretches and exercises and specific massages that therapists can do to help break up the cords, which are then reabsorbed by the body. It's grosser to think about than it is to experience, honestly. When I read about cording back at the beginning of the whole cancer process, I though "oh no, that sounds super stressful and weird and hard to experience." At this point? It's just another thing. It's not a big deal, it's actually helpful for me to know that the pain from cording isn't important, if that makes sense. It doesn't mean anything is wrong, it doesn't mean that there's any damage being done, it's just this weird body thing! 

Until I meet with my various medical specialists, I'm just continuing to stay active (but not too active). Lots of walking, moving within the range I'm allowed to protect healing, just continuing to live my life. There are some fleeting pains, but most of the time I feel pretty good. I feel like myself. My energy level is pretty much back to normal, which is a huge relief after all those months of chemo. 

Edited to add 1/17/26: I forgot to mention that during the surgery they ended up removing 27 lymph nodes! Apparently in this case, they just scoop some out and they don't know how many they're getting, then they check to see if there's any cancer (there was not). This is not what I was told to expect (by someone not on the surgeon's team). I thought they'd somehow make the three affected lymph nodes stand out and only take those. No. That's not a thing in this case! This increases my risk of lymphedema, so I was happy to later do a lymphedema teach session with the OT who specializes in lymphatic massage. So far no problems but it's have compression gloves and a sleeve just in case that ever changes and I don't get shots or blood draws in that arm.

Surgery recovery update

 I'm doing well! I'm off of all medication at this point, and it's going well. The hardest part is if I change levels (so sitting up after lying down, standing up after sitting, stuff like that) because the blood rushes to different parts of my body and the surgical sites ache and the drains remain incredibly annoying. They did an axillary lymph node dissection, which is the technical term for "scooped out some tissue from my armpit to check the lymph nodes for cancer," and this means that that area of my body is sore in some places and completely numb in others due to nerve damage. My upper arm on that side is also simultaneously numb in places and very sore. I feel what are called "zingers" in the surgical sites on my chest, which I think are related to nerve stuff, or general healing? I'm not sure. I know it's normal, but it feels incredibly weird. They are basically sharp, shooting pains, they don't happen too often and they go away super fast, they're just very surprising.

Every morning and every night, I empty the surgical drains and record the amount of liquid in them. I am hopeful that by the time I have my follow-up (next Monday), they will be ready to come out. 

I'm doing my best to rest (it's boring), and I can go for walks, but otherwise I'm taking it easy for now. It's going well, and my energy level is great, especially considering surgery was just over a week ago. 

first weekend after surgery

Last night, I had some wine and watched some Christmas movies on streaming services (standouts: "A Timeless Christmas," in which a workaholic from 1903 winds a magic clock, is brought to the future, and learns the true meaning of Christmas, and "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas" in which sci fi favs Tricia Helfer and Eric Mabius are mayors of two halves of a town that definitely is operating without a city council or any governmental oversight and they, too, somehow learn the true meaning of Christmas via a holiday decorating contest to impress a candle company). I'm getting better at managing the drains, and the output is decreasing (which is good. I want it to be very low by the time I go back for my office visit so I can get them taken out). I'm feeling pretty good, getting used to the weird muscle twitches in the surgery sites. I like the way it looks. It's never something I would have done without it being necessary, but I think it looks nice, and my hair is (sort of) growing back, and I can finally see what my partner has been saying this whole time (which is that I'm still cute, I'm still going to be cute). It's nice. It's going well. It's different, but I'm happy with it. 

This body is adjusting

 There is a psychological queasiness that comes with surgery, for me. I don't really like to think about the mechanics of bodies, or the ways that systems connect and interrelate. I like just existing. I enjoy being in the world, in this body. Surgery forces me to reckon with the flesh, and I do not care for it!

This is all to say that there have been some muscle twitches below the surgery site, and sometimes I wonder if they're even real. It's very normal, I have medication to control them, but it feels profoundly strange. It's not even painful, just unsettling. I expect them to intensify as the healing process continues. 

With this particular surgery, the body wants to protect the surgical site. The impulse in the system is to draw in, hunch over, curl up. You can't do it, though, or things will connect in ways that you don't want. So I'm trying to be mindful about keeping my shoulders back, keeping my posture straight, basically doing the things my occupational therapist had my practice ahead of time. It requires effort, but it does feel better than hunching over (so that's good. it reinforces the posture I need to maintain). 

I sleep well. For everything that's happened, bodywise, it's easy to find comfortable positions and then settle in. 

The biggest challenge is resting. I don't like watching television or playing video games during traditional work hours, and in this particular recover process, it would actually be a great time to do those thing. I'm going to try today. Or I'll do laundry. Or I'll do both. 

Three days after surgery update

When I went home from the hospital on Monday, I had a compression bandage wrapped around my torso. It was pretty tight, and this kind of bandage is important both to protect the site and also to prevent fluid buildup, bruising, etc. Kind of like wearing a medical corset around the house all the time. That said, it made me feel like the surgical sites were well protected. 

My energy the day of surgery was surprisingly good, though I was a little out of it. The next day I felt very alert, and there was soreness but it wasn't terrible. I have pain medication to take if I need it, and I've been taking it a bit, but not too much. I also have a muscle relaxant that I take four times a day to prevent spasms in the surgery area muscles. My range of motion is limited, but I'm not feeling a lot of pain when I move my arms. Certain movements with my right arm do result in nerve pain, which makes sense, since that's the side where they took out some lymph nodes. Nerve pain is to be expected, and it's a very weird feeling.

I have three surgical drains that I have to manage, and this entails stripping the lines of tubing to make sure no clots of bits of tissue clog them up, and then emptying them into a measuring cup and recording the amount of liquid. It's actually very straightforward. I will have the drains for at least 2 weeks. The nurse has already told me that this surgeon will not take them out early, so that's helpful in setting expectations. 

If I leave the house, I have a belt that has two pouches for the drains that I can wear under my clothes. I went to Target last night and felt fairly normal. I walk around the house, I have gone out to run errands a couple of times, but I can't drive yet and I wouldn't want to do anything without someone around. 

The smallest cat in the house is getting a lot of good lap time. I had thought I might sleep in the recliner, but I have managed to sleep well in my own bed with a higher pillow stack than usual. Getting up in the middle of the night involves a lot of core strength, and luckily, that is part of what PT and OT prepared me for, so if anyone wants advice on going through this, one of my top tips is "get into physical and occupational therapy as soon as you can." I felt very prepared for surgery and recovery, thanks to all of the things they had me do to get ready. 

Today, I got to take off the compression bandage and see the site underneath. It looks good! I was expecting a mess, and it's just flat with some bruising. I think it'll look great when it heals. I'm very happy with how things are going (though I am ready to be done with the drains).

Surgery complete!

I had my double mastectomy yesterday and it went really well! I checked in at 6 am, surgery at 7:30 am, and I was home by 11:30 am. I'm sore today, and I'm still getting used to drain management, but I'm feeling shockingly good. I think there's a psychological element to it. I'm very relieved to have the surgery behind me. Radiation is still ahead, as well as pills and shots and ovary removal, etc, but I finally feel the sense of relief that I had expected to feel at the end of chemo. It's nice.

Ben is staying with me for the next couple of weeks to help with cats, me, whatever. I can reach the bottom shelf of the cupboards, and I can use the microwave, but anything higher than that is out of reach for me. 

I am very glad to have gotten the post-surgery garments with drain pockets, as they make things much easier. There's a lot of tubing, and I have to check the drains and empty them throughout the day (and I record the amount of fluid that's coming out). It sounds very weird, and it is very weird, but it's easy enough and not painful. 

The hardest part is going to be resting. I feel good, so I want to do things! But I just had surgery, and I know it's important for me to take it easy. I napped in the recliner quite a bit yesterday, and was able to sleep in my own bed last night (with a pillow stack). The cats were shut out of the room, and they handled it really well. No crying at the door, etc. Avalon likes to sleep on or next to me, which she won't be allowed to do for a while. But she can sit on my lap when I'm sitting up in the living room. Myrtle is getting shoulder time with Ben (she likes to be carried around like a baby, which I can't do right now just because of the incision areas) so she's pretty happy. My work sent me flowers, and my parents brought food. 

It's been a weird year, and it's not over yet, but I feel good right now. (I'm also on hydrocodone, so that's probably helping.)

Getting ready for the holidays

 I'm just having a cozy Thanksgiving week, going on walks with friends, spending lots of time with the cats, just getting the house ready for recovery time. I've repositioned the outside cat shelters and replenished their straw in anticipation of colder weather, I've got blankets out for the inside cats so they can nap as comfortably as possible (they are so comfortable) and today I've ever got the fake fireplace going. It's an old fireplace insert with a light behind plastic logs with a clear section to simulate glowing coals, and there's a spinner behind it that brushes tinsel against the plastic so it sounds like a crackling fire (and this also makes the light change a little). It's very cool. I found it at a junk shop a couple of years ago and I love it. I'll put a little fiberoptic tree up after Thanksgiving, and that'll probably be it for decorating this year! 

The only thing I need to do this week is make a cheesecake (there is a very good no-bake cheesecake recipe from Sally's Baking Addiction that I like), and some cranberry orange ginger topping for it (gonna wing it). 

I hope you're all staying warm and safe.

Surgery approved! hooray!

 I'm just living the end of "Batman: The Movie" starring Adam West where every nation is getting the good news. "Success, success! They've done it!"

Why, you may ask, have I not talked that much about surgery up until this point? Well, I was waiting for insurance to approve it. Because that's the world we live in, where your double mastectomy has to be approved by insurance before you can feel confident telling people about it. 

Anyway, I'll be getting a double mastectomy, plus they'll be removing a number of lymph nodes (since the cancer had moved into my lymph nodes, and that's how they originally found it). This will be happening the Monday after Thanksgiving, and the plan is for me to go home the same day. Originally I had thought I'd need to stay overnight, so this is great news. 

I'm not looking forward to it in the traditional sense, but I am looking forward to being done with this step.

Edited to add 1/16/26: I somehow didn't put anything in here about how there are garments specifically for breast cancer surgical recovery! There's a whole weird little boutique that's like a fancy lingerie shop, and you have to get a referral from the hospital to even go, and they work with insurance and you can get sort of compression tank top things with drain pockets to wear as you're recovering from surgery. You can also get prosthetics and garments with places for prosthetics if this is something that helps you feel more like you. (I didn't have any interest in the aesthetic garments but the recovery tank tops were INCREDIBLY helpful and it was worth the hassle of going to get them. Drain management is really annoying.)

What's after chemo

 As you have probably noticed, I don't post much when there isn't actually anything going on. My last chemo was two Fridays ago, and I'm feeling good. Last week, I had my pre-surgery consult with my surgeon, then later in the week I had bloodwork done and a short meeting with my oncologist. Surgery is scheduled for the 27th (just a few more weeks to go!) and after that, radiation. Everything is going well. 

Done with chemo, hooray

 Last chemo treatment was yesterday, bloodwork was good, I still have a long ways to go, but I'm feeling good today and happy to done with this portion of the process!

11th Taxol treatment done, a nice weekend

 Last Friday, I had my 11th Taxol treatment. It went smoothly, no issues with bloodwork or anything else. Just one more to go. I have been so grateful for the staff at the infusion center. They are all very helpful and nice, and it makes what could be a very tedious weekly event into a relatively pleasant outing. 

The past couple of weekends have actually been quite busy. Last weekend, Ben and I drove to St. Louis to attend SLICE (St. Louis Independent Comics Expo). It was a wonderful show. Lots of comics and art and camaraderie. This weekend, we went to the last Third Friday Artwalk of the year in KCK. There's so much beauty and community and food and art, and a local artist had made a mandela of positive intention and hope for Palestine. It was beautiful and I was overwhelmed by emotion seeing how many people had made signs in support of Palestine. 

My cancer feels very small and very manageable in the face of the larger world. But even with that, I am tired. I am looking forward to being done with chemo, and then I will need to prepare for surgery. I am feeling ready. 

10th Taxol treatment done

On Friday, I had my 10th of 12 Taxol treatments. My bloodwork was better than the week before, I'm no longer neutropenic, and things are looking good. My oncologist has told me that if I were to have a week where my numbers were low, she'd be more likely to adjust the dose than to delay treatment since I'm so close to the end of chemo. 

As a reminder, once I'm done with chemo, I still have surgery and radiation, so I've still got plenty to do, and I won't be done this year. But I'll be closer. 

Not a cancer post for once

I just wanted you all to know that aside from the cancer part, things in my life are going really well. I wake up, I have coffee, a small cat sits on my lap and slowly falls asleep, I have meetings, I write emails, I do work things (I am still learning the new job, but it's just enough to keep me busy and interested while not enough to overwhelm or exhaust me right now), I see my friends (safely outside or on video chats or on phone calls), I see my parents, I see my partner. I cook, I go on walks, I sit with different cats, I watch a lot of competition baking and cooking shows, I watch low-stakes, very silly movies, I play low-stakes, very silly video games, I do yard work (minimal), things are good. 

Feeling worse, feeling better, doing well

Remember when I said I was slightly neutropenic and I needed to be very cautious? As a recap, my white blood cell count and my neutrophils are low, so my immune system isn't where it should be to protect me from normal things. This means that right now I am masking all the time, even outdoors, I am not riding my bike (because a fall would be bad), I am washing raw fruits and vegetables very thoroughly, I'm not going to salad buffets (this is a joke but I am not actually supposed to do those right now), I am just trying to be careful so I'm not exposing myself to germs. 

Well, I went to the Renaissance Festival on Saturday and it was awesome. My partner and I masked up (we are masking even outdoors around other people now for my safety), we met a couple of friends, we walked around, and I got a turkey leg. It was awesome. I had a great time. I am never excited about food these days, on account of never being hungry, and I had been looking forward to the Ren Fest turkey leg all year. That night, we went to GloWild and walked around the zoo. (GloWild is a thing where the zoo has partnered with a lantern company from China and they put up these very cool lanterns along a path around about half of the zoo and you go after hours to see them.) 

Sunday, we were going to go to an apple fest in a nearby town, but in the morning, I woke up feeling a little off, so my partner went out to get doughnuts and we had a quiet morning on the couch. Over the course of the day, my temperature hovered around 100 degrees (but crucially not 100.3, which is when I have to go to the hospital no matter what!) and I was very tired. More than that, my entire body ached, and even my skin hurt. You know when you have the flu and everywhere your clothes touch you, it hurts? It was like that. I took a nap in the afternoon and I went to bed at 8 pm after checking my temperature every couple of hours (to confirm that I still did not, in fact, need to go to the hospital at this time). 

In retrospect, a turkey leg at a fair may have not been the most safety-conscious food choice I could have made. I would do it again. I'm not sure it was worth it (they aren't even that delicious), but I'd do it again. 

Monday morning I woke up to a normal temperature. I took it easy. Took a 90 minute walk. Didn't really do anything else other than a little bit of email.

Today, I had physical and occupational therapy, and I was worried about how I'd do since I had spent Sunday feeling so bad and Monday resting. I've been going long enough that they needed to basically test to see how I was doing and whether I was making progress or declining. I actually did incredibly well. I performed better in every test than I had when I started (which is amazing when you consider how much chemo I have had since the beginning), I'm stronger than I was when I started, I'm more flexible, and both of my therapists were really happy with my progress.

So it's been a real wild ride these past few days! I'm going to take it easy for the rest of the week and give my body time to hopefully recover. I'm really hoping my bloodwork is good on Friday, and I can continue receiving chemo without any delays, but there isn't much I can do about it. I have to keep eating well, I need to rest this week, and the we'll see. 

Good news, less good (but not bad!) news, cat news

 The good news is I have completed my ninth Taxol treatment and only have three more to go! The less good news is that my white blood cell count has fallen (just slightly) under the acceptable low threshold, and so now I am technically neutropenic, and I need to be very cautious until those number come back up. It's possible that I won't be able to receive my next treatment on my regular schedule if that number stays low, and there's nothing I can do to affect it. My body just needs time to rebuild those cells. I will find out next week when they do my labs, and if necessary, they will delay treatment for a week. This is fine. It's not really that bad when it comes to news. I would LOVE to be done with everything on schedule, but I have been repeatedly reminded that you can't assume anything when it comes to cancer or chemo or treatment or scheduling, because things change depending on your body. 

Anyway I will be masking even more aggressively for the next week, and continuing to mostly stay home (normal for me, not a huge change!), and health care professionals will wear masks around me (FOR ONCE) since my immune system isn't really functioning at the moment. I will also not be biking, since I can't risk a fall. It's too bad, since we've finally got some beautiful crisp weather (so perfect).

In completely unrelated news, I got a fourth cat a couple of weeks ago. Her name is Myrtle, she's 14, she's a tiny Siamese mix, she's got one galaxy eye (an eye with a cataract that covers the whole lens so it looks white) and a funny little ear (they don't know what happened to her but suspect since these are on the same side of her head they are related somehow) and she's very, very good. She has already made friends with the two cats who are open to friendship, and the oldest cat (he is 20 and no longer wants to make friends with anybody but human people) has decided to move to the basement permanently. It's a lovely finished basement with a window in the office where the sunlight pours in and many comfortable spots. I'm writing this from my basement office, actually, and everyone is much happier. He's getting to do whatever he wants and the other cats don't have to worry that he's going to try to swipe at them. As much as I had hoped for a household where everybody gets along in the same space, I have to admit that this seems better for everyone.

Things are fine, no updates because nothing is different

I realized I hadn't updated in a while, so I wanted to let you know that the reason for this is that things are going well! Treatments have gone smoothly, I seem to be avoiding nerve damage (via "wearing little bags of ice on my hands and feet for the hour I receive Taxol"), which is a huge relief. I continue to do my physical therapy and occupational therapy exercises (some focus on strength, some focus on balance, some focus on flexibility), I am getting out into the world (cautiously, masked when inside), riding my bike, going for walks, having a good end of summer/beginning of fall. I am very excited for a drop in temperature because this will mean 1. no more mowing 2. TIME TO WEAR JACKETS! I love jackets!

So all of this said, things are going well, my mood is good, life is going well, I occasionally find myself going over what I'll need to do next. Not even "have surgery," more "I need to put a small table in the bathroom so I'll be able to get things without reaching beyond my range of motion post-surgery, I need to put the shower chair in the shower and I can use it as a place to keep things so they are easy for me to access, I need put my coffee stuff on a lower shelf so I can make myself coffee." I go over these things in my mind and I find myself muttering "I hate this, I hate this, I hate this, I hate all of this, I don't want to do any of this."

And it's true. I hate this. I don't want to do any of this. I want to not have cancer. I want to have never gone through any of this. But I do have cancer. I am going through this. It's even going well. I share this just to show you that even though EVERYTHING is going as well as possible, it also sucks. And I'm lucky! And I'm grateful. And I'm feeling pretty good and I'm not even upset about it most of the time. But sometimes I whisper to myself that this is so unfair and I hate it so much. And that's ok too. 

This is a long one about sickness and death and how uncomfortable people can get around things they can't fix

I'm halfway through chemo. I haven't been posting as many musings lately because I've been busy with other things. Some of those things are "figuring out if this joint pain is normal" (the answer is yes, and it's not that bad), some of those things have to do with my work (which is super fun and going well, actually), but I'm awake (the premeds in taxol have steroids in them and the first night after receiving treatment is a little tricky) and I want to talk about how weird it is to have cancer with a very positive prognosis. To have cancer and to not really be worried, at this point, about having cancer.

Mostly I want to talk about two of my friends.

One was a friend I made on Twitter, very casually, a number of years ago. She had cancer, she was dying, and she knew she was dying. Many, many people, people she'd encounter in daily life, friends, some of the many medical professionals she encountered regularly (not her doctors but the various people you encounter as you move through a hospital -- there are LOTS), wouldn't acknowledge this. They would tell her that miracles could happen, that you should never give up hope, etc. etc. She would post about how frustrating this was, and how strange it was to move through a world of people who really did know what her situation was, where she knew what her situation was, and they couldn't look her in the eye and sit with her in the reality of that. She talked about how isolating it was, and I felt so bad for her. I still feel terrible for her. It must have been very lonely in those moments to have to try to break through this discomfort that people have with death, which is a thing that will happen to all of us, and to not be clearly seen by the people who really needed to see her. 

When I left Twitter, we exchanged email addresses, and we corresponded a bit, but she preferred the casual nature of social media sites, where you could see how someone was doing without either person having to do yet another thing to maintain that connection. She was really cool, and I liked her a lot. Dying can take longer than you think, so I figured maybe we'd meet sometime, eventually. She did die. I found out because she stopped posting, she didn't respond to emails, and another friend who lived in the same city as her posted to let us know that she was gone. I wish she were still here. I wish I had asked her more questions, sent her more cat photos. Having spoken to our mutual friend since initially writing this post, I've come back to edit it. I think she'd be happy for me that I'm not dying. You never get to know how the dead feel, but maybe they're more forgiving than we initially imagine. Hearing from our mutual friend, and thinking back on the ways that she moved on social media, she was a person who was frustrated by what she was going through, and always happy for other people when they got good news. I don't even manage this now. I wish I'd known her better. It's strange to think so much about someone that I didn't know for that long, or very well. But I get the feeling that she was that kind of person. Someone you remember.

I had another friend who had a different kind of cancer and responded remarkably well to treatments, and lived well beyond the projections (years and years beyond a monthslong prognosis). He did so well for so long that I think he thought he'd just keep doing well, and getting those miracles, and having those medical procedures go as well as possible. Inevitably, he began to decline, and I'd visit him every week. Initially we'd go for walks around his neighborhood. Later we'd hang out around his house. As things got worse, I'd sit in the room they converted to be a bedroom, because he couldn't manage stairs. Eventually, he passed away. And he really didn't want to go. He intended to live, he had plans, he did not acknowledge that he was dying, ever, to me. Even when it was very clear that he was.

He wasn't alone, he had a wife, a cat, lots of friends, a brother who would visit on the same schedule as me but earlier, and we'd say hi as we'd pass each other going to and from our cars. I need to see how that guy's doing, actually, but I'll probably forget tomorrow, and when we do inevitably run into each other at, like, Costco, we can both honestly say, "Oh, I meant to reach out, but you know how it is!" because that is the nature of being alive.

Lest you think that I am a perfect friend, or a big weirdo who loves to befriend and spend time with people who are dying, I am neither. I just know that a lot of people can't sit in that situation and not make it worse. I can do it, and so I do. It's really, really useful to know what kind of person you are when your friends get sick! For everyone involved. The person I was seeing at the time would always say, "Oh that's really heavy," or "That must be really hard," if I mentioned that I was going to visit, and no, actually, it wasn't. It was just adjusting to where that person was, acknowledging that reality, and not trying to make it better, or fix it, or pretend it wasn't happening. It was the new normal way I spent time with that person, and while it was different, it wasn't bad. It was just nice. Those were great visits, and I'm really glad I got that time with that person. It is not a terrible, brave burden to <checks notes> hang out with your friends. It can be a little strange and awkward sometimes, but you figure it out. This is true of most social situations, regardless of whether any parties are actively dying!

I've been very lucky to have so many friends who have made a point to stay connected to me in the ways that they are able, and see me clearly. Some go for walks with me. Some ask if I need food (and I tell them they'll have to fight my mom). Some check to see if I need rides to treatment (and I tell them that they'll have to fight my parents). Some send texts or emails or postcards, etc. etc. My partner is sleeping in the other room right now, and it's entirely likely that he'll wake up before me, take care of my cats, make coffee, allowing me to sleep in, which is a thing I don't get to do when he's not over because the smallest cat will hassle me for breakfast until I get up. He doesn't have to do any of that. He reminds me that this is a thing he can do for me, and so he does, and if and when I need him to do more, he will. I built a life that happened to include a lot of lovely people, and I'm so grateful.

So having said that, and now all of you who are my friends know I'm not talking about you here, I think that a lot of people are very uncomfortable in situations where you have to 1. acknowledge that things are weird and bad and you can't fix them 2. be close to illness and possible impending death 3. watch those you care about decline. And when I say "people are very uncomfortable" I mean everybody, including the people who are going through the difficult things. Even when you're not dying, if you're going through something that changes you, the acknowledgment of what you once were and what you are now can be a slow, painful process. I have spoken about this in my own journey in previous blogs. 

I don't know what the point of any of this is, other than to remind readers of this blog that: 1. I am not dying 2. I would tell you if I were dying because I'm just like that 2a. I would hope that you could sit with me in that reality and not try to make it something else in an attempt to "make things better" 3. People die unexpectedly all the time (ask me how I know), and they don't even get to reckon with how they feel about it before it happens. (In certain cases, perhaps they do, but maybe they should have reckoned with it MORE.)

In conclusion, having cancer is not great. But for me, personally, it hasn't been what I thought it would be. It's a thing I'm going through. It's a lot of time at the hospital. It's full of physical and mental changes (none of which have been particularly cool or fun, though everyone assures me that I look really good bald, and I agree. Like a tiny Telly Savalas. Or, as one friend said, "A sexy Yul Brynner"). But I know where I'm at, I know what I need to do, I believe my doctors when they take my hands and look me in the eye and tell me that I'm doing well, and I'm going to continue doing well, and at the end of this, I'll be better (my medical oncologist is both great and VERY intense and I love her). And I know myself well enough to know that if it's true, I'll be happy. And if it doesn't go the way we all hope it will, I'll still be happy. 

I think constantly about how much time is enough time. (I do this because I adopt elderly cats.) The answer to this is "whatever you get. However much time." I've said this before. I've said this since the beginning. This is an answer that resonates with me, and it makes so many things easier. 

Taxol Treatment 4 done!

 Usually my chemo treatments are on Thursdays, but sometimes they are on Fridays (it's all down to the schedule of my oncologist and when they have open appointments at the infusion center). Today's appointment was in the afternoon (also unusual since I'm usually scheduled for the morning) so I got to have a very nice morning getting some work done, spending time with cats and having leisurely coffee.

My bloodwork looked good, my oncologist is very happy with how things are going, and everything seems to be going well. The hardest thing about taxol is icing my hands and feet, and it's getting easier. Today, I half-napped for the hour that I got the chemo. You wouldn't think that you could nap with ice on your hands and feet, but the Benadryl in the pre-meds does wonders to make this possible!

Anyway, I'm feeling good, I made a very nice vegetable and chicken curry for dinner, and I think I'll sleep well tonight.

Taxol Treatment 3 (of 12)

 I had my third Taxol treatment yesterday and it went well! My bloodwork is good, my vitals were good, and it was a pretty painless couple of hours at the infusion center. One of the gentlemen in the waiting room mentioned that we seemed to be on the same schedule, so I met him and his wife and we chatted for a bit. It's nice. It's the most social space I'm in all week, and even though I hate that I'm often the only one wearing a mask, it does remind me of how much I used to enjoy the very small social interactions that made up the world before covid. 

As I've mentioned before, Taxol can cause neuropathy, so I have bags of ice on my hands and feet for the hour that I'm getting the infusion. It's not that bad, and it seems to be working. So far, so good. 

The main side effects are sleeplessness (and when I mentioned this to the nurse, she pointed out that the premeds for Taxol include steroids, so that explains why the first day I feel very good and also don't want to go to bed ever) and a lack of hunger, so I just have to set timers for food and sleep and follow them and it's fine. 

The weather here has been very hot, but it's supposed to get better this weekend. I need to mow the lawn, but it will wait for a day that isn't 100 degrees!

Met with the surgeon again today

Today I had occupational therapy in the morning (doing great, they are not worried about my strength, they want to continue working on my flexibility) and a meeting with my surgeon in the afternoon.

The highlights of the surgeon meeting were: discussing a flat closure, talking about timing, and learning about what to expect as far as what I'll be able to do physically after the surgery.

I have mentioned this before, but I will not be doing any kind of reconstructive surgery. As soon as medical professionals check and double check this a couple of times, they then go into a very "that makes it so much easier for everyone in a host of ways" (Examples: it will be less painful for me because I won't have expanders, radiation will be easier because it's not trying to work around plastic, scheduling will be easier because it's just one surgeon instead of two surgeons, etc etc). I am so curious about how this information is presented to people who do decide to get reconstructive surgery, but I guess I'll never know. 

Because I will not be getting reconstructive surgery, I would like a flat closure. This is a very important thing to discuss with your surgeon ahead of surgery, and it's a very important thing to feel like your surgeon understands and is on board with before surgery! A flat closure just means they remove more skin, and you end up with a flat chest. The alternative, and what is done if you're planning to do reconstruction, is they save as much skin as possible because that will be important when they're rebuilding the breast. If you get this kind of closure and you don't get reconstructive surgery, you end up with a lot of loose skin on your chest. I had a friend who had a double mastectomy tell me, "Ask about aesthetic closure. Ask about a flat closure. I didn't and I wish I had." I don't know how often it happens now, but I have read a number of accounts of people who wanted a flat closure, but whose surgeons didn't do it (either because they forgot maybe? Or they assumed the person wanted reconstructive surgery later?). The American medical establishment's historial preciousness around breasts is weird. See also: the breast cancer awareness shirts that go all in on "save the boobies" and things like this. No, I would like to save myself. And I don't want to have any more surgery than I have to. I want to recover as quickly as possible. My sense of who I am is not tied to any particular part of me, and while I know it'll take some getting used to when I look different, I also know I will get used to it, and it'll be great. I am lucky, because I'm fairly small (frame, etc), and it's not going to look that different for me to go from what I have right now to nothing. 

Anyway my surgeon was totally on board with that, and explained the difference (which is why I was able to explain it to you in the paragraph above!). 

As far as timing, they usually schedule surgery for 4-6 weeks after your last chemo session. This will put my surgery in late November, assuming that I continue to handle chemo well, and we don't have to reschedule any sessions due to bloodwork results. Fingers crossed for that. 

Post-surgery, I wanted to know about my physical limitations, because I've had friends who have had slightly different surgeries who had a lot of tips on how to get the house ready, what I would or would not be able to do, etc, but I wanted to actually talk to the doctor. My main questions were "will I be able to get out of bed on my own, will I be able to get out of a recliner." The answers to both were yes, with the caveat that one arm is probably going to be a little more limited in movement initially (because I'll be losing some axillary lymph nodes) but he thought I probably wouldn't have that much trouble with these specific movements.

There's still a lot of chemo go to, and after surgery, I've still got a month of radiation, but it's nice to feel like I'm getting ready for the next step. I'm feeling relatively good, I continue to really like all my doctors and nurses, and I feel very lucky to have the insurance I have, and be at the hospital I'm at. 

Little update

I continue to do pretty well with the new kind of chemo. There is a little joint pain (this is normal), I have some nerve stuff on my right hand pinkie from video games, and I've been feeling that lately, but that's pretty normal for me (especially when I'm on my phone too much). I've got an appointment with my occupational therapist tomorrow morning, because she wanted to check in since I'm still pretty new to the taxol, and then I have an appointment with my surgeon tomorrow afternoon to talk about my eventual mastectomy. 

It was very hot here this weekend, so I mostly stayed inside and took it easy. Made some nice food, watched some TV. Taxol continues to affect my sleepiness, in that I don't get tired, but I can go to sleep if I make a point of getting to bed at a reasonable time and not checking my phone. It's not too bad. It reminds me of the effect that chemo has had on my appetite. I'm neither hungry nor sleepy, but I can eat and I can sleep, and I feel refreshed by doing both. This feels like a big win. I know that this isn't the case for everyone.

Overall I want to try to spend less time staring at my phone generally, more time engaged with the world (or at least using a computer because that's easier on my hands). 

Taxol Treatment 2

Today, I had my second taxol treatment, and it went smoothly! Labs came back fast, vitals were good (initially my temperature was high but that was because I had just eaten a ginger candy! We retook it about 20 minutes later and it was totally within the normal range), premeds went without incident, and I was out of there in about two hours. It was the easiest chemo treatment I've had so far. I continue to worry about neuropathy (particularly in a couple of fingers that already have some problems thanks to playing too much Animal Crossing in the second year of the pandemic) but it seems to be going well so far. Icing my hands and my feet is uncomfortable in the moment but I am hoping it will prevent nerve issues in the future so it's absolutely worth it.

I cannot say enough about the staff at the infusion center. They are unfailingly friendly and kind and I look forward to seeing them every week even though I do not really "look forward" to chemo in the traditional sense. I told them this today. As a person who has done customer-facing work, it's very hard to maintain that energy and that kindness, even when the stakes are incredibly low. And the stakes at the infusion center are sky high. They are remarkable people and I am very lucky.

Afterwards, Ben picked me up, I napped for a couple of hours at his house, and then we got dinner at a great Thai bbq place on the patio with another friend who has dealt with some health challenges and approaches the world very carefully. 

I have noticed that taxol impacts my sleep. It's late, and I'm not tired at all. I got a little work done, and now I'm sitting with cats and watching cooking shows. It's a nice night, and I'll go to bed in a bit. For days after chemo day, I am more deliberate about bedtimes and making sure that even if I'm not feeling tired, I'm still doing my nighttime routines and going to be at a reasonable hour. I am very aware that things can get very out of control with sleep cycles with chemo, so I allow myself one night of "staying up a little too late" but that's it. 

Side note about scan results and future treatment and PT and OT as I am experiencing it

As I mentioned, I got a mammogram and a sonagram last week, and they showed that the areas of concern in my breast showed marked improvement (the larger mass couldn't be seen at all, and the smaller mass, which was already very small, maybe 8 mm in diameter, was now down to 6 mm in diameter). The three enlarged axillary lymph nodes (they are in my right armpit), which had kicked off this whole process, looked totally normal.

When I spoke to the nurse practitioner today (and I should note that she specializes in breast cancer), I asked if that meant that I'd get to keep those lymph nodes. The answer is no. As with the breast tissue, the goal with chemo is to get rid of it, but then you still get surgery just in case there's anything still in there that might come back later to cause problems again. I'm fine with this. Aggressive treatment is what I want. I don't want to do this again. 

So given that I'll be losing some lymph nodes, I asked about lymphedema (the lymph system is how your body drains fluids, specifically lymph, from various parts of the body. In the case of the axillary nodes, they handle fluid from the arm. In this case, it's possible that I might deal with some swelling and fluid retention in my right arm). Apparently, this is more of an issue if you get more than 6 nodes removed. So what they'll do is inject a liquid that will cause potentially problematic nodes to "light up" (I do not have additional information on this but I'm assuming it's like the many other scans, like how in an MRI or a CT scan, they use contrast to "see" places that might be bad) and then all nodes affected will be removed, and then they'll check the nodes they removed to see if they are cancerous or if they're just lymph nodes. This is all to say that the NP thought I would probably not run into problems, but if I did, my occupational therapist is actually one of the lymphedema OTs, so, in the NP's words, "You're right where you need to be."

I have a meeting with my surgeon in a couple of weeks to talk about what that will entail, what to expect, etc, and I'm looking forward to it. I like information. More information, for me, is always better.

I want to briefly mention that on Monday, when I had my PT and OT appointments, I asked my occupational therapist if she could give me more detail on the differences between PT and OT, and what I learned was that in this particular practice, she and the PT I've been working with work very closely together and specialize in breast cancer patient care. So while in a different practice there might be more space between those two roles, in this case, there's a lot of overlap. The easiest way to explain it is that the OT is concerned with what you need to be able to do to live your normal life, and the PT is concerned with making sure that you have the strength, balance, and flexibility to do those things. For me, in this moment, they are both preparing me for surgery and the time after surgery, and then eventually, the rest of my life. They both keep up on the latest research about how their disciplines can impact outcomes for cancer patients, and they also keep up on how other facets of care intersect with the body. The OT asked about the icing for taxol, and I explained that the nurses at the infusion center had already said they were going to ice me. She was really happy about this, because I guess they didn't used to push it, it was more up to the patient because it's not exactly pleasant, but it has a lot of data to back up its efficacy.

I'm really impressed with the people who are working with me, the level of knowledge they have about where the research is on breast cancer and all of the things surrounding it, and I always feel like I am being seen as a person first and a patient second. I appreciate that I get deep dives on people's specialties, and then overviews of how all of my care works together. It's really, really nice. I'm very lucky. I don't think I could ask for better care or better providers, and I really do think I'm right where I need to be. 

Taxol Treatment 1!

I had my first taxol treatment today! This will be the first of 12 treatments, which will happen weekly. 

Many of the elements of this phase of chemo are the same as the last. I go in, they draw blood, we wait for labs, on some visits I'll either talk to my medical oncologist or the nurse practitioner who did my chemo teach. Refresher: a chemo teach is a information-heavy session where you go over everything chemo -- what you can and cannot eat, possible side effects, strategies to mitigate those side effects, when to go to the hospital, medication, etc. It's a time to ask any and all questions and it's really helpful but I think it can be overwhelming for a lot of people. I love information, so I thought it was great. 

Anyway, when I meet with either my doctor or my NP, they check to see how I've been doing. They take my vitals (temperature, blood pressure, oxygen level), listen to my heart and lungs, check to see if the lumps in my breast and lymph nodes seem to be shrinking (the answer here is yes, which is great, and confirmed by the mammogram and sonogram I had last week). Basically if I'm not doing well, they can assess if I need more or different medication, if something needs to be adjusted, etc. Then I go back to the bay where I'll receive my infusion. 

For taxol, the pre-meds are a little different than they were for AC. Pre-meds are the medication you receive before you get the actual chemo drugs to try to prevent side effects like an allergic reaction or nausea. In the first round, I was getting some steroids and both short-acting and long-acting anti-nausea meds before getting the chemo drugs, and they were done in two different steps. One drip and one injection (for the longer acting nausea) that left a strange banana taste in my mouth (bad). I also had to go back for a shot the next day to stimulate white blood cell production, and I had to take steroids for three days after, as well as anti-nausea meds for breakthrough nausea. This time, I just got one drip and it had dexamethasone (steroid), diphenhydramine (Benadryl) and famotidine (Pepcid). This is to help minimize an allergic reaction or any nausea or gastro side effects with treatment. 

The Benadryl in the pre-meds made me sleepy, so I just hung out while all of this happened. As always, waiting for bloodwork results is the slowest part. It took almost two hours today, but it's fine. I sit in a comfortable chair, I eat snacks (peanut butter crackers have been restocked, along with the more exciting granola bars, so that was cool), I drink tiny Shastas (today a lemon lime soda). Today, I took a nap. Once bloodwork is back, the pharmacy starts mixing up the medication, and then you really get started.

The actual taxol treatment took an hour, and they iced my hands and my feet (just ice in bags that are put on my hands and feet, and I can take them off at various times, but the idea is you want those areas to be COLD) while I received the medication. This is because taxol can cause nerve damage especially to the fingers and toes. Keeping them iced helps constrict blood vessels, which means less of the medication makes it to those areas. If I start to feel tingling or numbness, I have to let them know, because nerve damage is no joke, and it's hard to fix. So far, so good. 

My occupational therapist gave me some stiff blue putty to work with, because hand strength helps combat neuropathy in the fingers. If I hadn't been icing my hands, she recommended working with the putty, but since I did, I worked on it after. It's very funny to basically be sitting around playing with what looks like Play-doh, but I really do not want nerve damage! So I'm very happy to do what has been proven to help in these situations.

After it was over, I called Ben and he picked me up, then I took a nap. With AC, I would feel REALLY bad, and I would need to sleep for hours. This time, I took maybe an hour nap, maybe two, I felt a little rough but not nearly as bad, and I was feeling pretty good and like myself by about 4 pm (contrast to 2 am in the morning for AC, after a bad hangover-y series of hours). 

We'll see how I feel tomorow, and we'll see how I do with the side effects. But at this point, AC was definitely the harder treatment. I'm feeling good! I had a nice dinner, I will probably go to sleep a little early since I got up at 6 am today, I'm feeling pretty normal. It's good.

Starting taxol tomorrow

I should have done an update after the gastro update! I had physical therapy and occupational therapy on Monday (I'm doing great, they're very happy with how I'm doing), I've been feeling really good this week (no fevers, no fatigue issues), and I start the next round of chemo (taxol) tomorrow.

Taxol can cause allergic reactions so I'll be given pre-meds beforehand to try to keep this from happening. It can also cause nerve damage, so they'll be icing my hands and my feet while I receive the drip (it will be about an hour of this). And then if I feel any tingling or numbness, I have to let them know because the whole point of chemo is to cure the cancer, NOT to create more problems for me that I will then have to live with, and neuropathy is not something you want if you can avoid it. Nerves take a long time to heal, if they heal at all.

I'm continuing to live my life and do my various exercises and see my friends (outside or on video calls) and spend time with my cats. Things are good! I don't know how I'll do with taxol, but I'm trying to just take things as they come instead of worrying before I need to worry. 

Gastro stuff

 Remember a couple of days ago when I very confidently mentioned that I seemed to have escaped AC chemo without the gastro issues I was worried I'd experience?

LOL

LMAO

I will spare you the details but turns out I need to stop assuming anything ever, as it takes a bit to really understand what has happened to my body since the last treatment. 

In better news, I took a nice walk today even though it was pretty humid. And I wasn't as tired today. 

It's all ok! It's challenging, but it's ok. 

little fever, don't worry

So yesterday, in addition to going to the hospital for some scans (with great results!), I also felt super, super tired. Like, no energy to do anything once I got back from the scans, just took a nap on the couch, felt awful. Around 6 pm I decided to check my temperature, and it was 99.5 F. Just so you all know, if I have a temperature of 100.3 F or higher, I have to go immediately to the hospital, because if you have a fever with chemo, something could be extremely wrong. I've had temperatures in the 99s before, though, and it's been ok. So I went to bed early and I checked my temperature in the morning. 98.5 F. Everything's ok! I had wondered if maybe mowing the lawn on Monday had taken too much out of me, but no, I think it's just chemo!

I mention this because even now, after two months of chemo, there are still things I don't immediately think to do. I don't know if I just forget, every cycle, that I have some good days, and then some days where I don't feel great, and then I feel better as I get farther away from treatment, but I am still always surprised when I wake up and I don't feel good. 

Anyway I feel much better today. I am going to clean the house in a bit. I am blogging about this so I can look back on it later and remember that it happened. 

got a mammogram, got an ultrasound

 Things are looking smaller! The doctor reading the results said that there was marked improvement (and my lymph nodes look normal). Yay!

I celebrated by going to Culver's and somehow accidentally ordering a PLAIN DOUBLE HAMBURGER?!?!?! It was still good.

a small note about a little cat

I live with three cats. One of them is a beige little lady who is 17 years old and weighs 6 pounds. Her name is Avalon. She likes to sit on my stomach around 5:30 in the morning in an attempt to convince me that it's time to get up and give her breakfast. I don't do this, because once you do this, you're getting up every day at 5:30 am to give a little cat breakfast. It's an untenable situation. 

Anyway, given that I do NOT get up when she does this, she has started eventually lying down and then falling asleep on my chest, and I can feel her purring right over my heart. 

It's the best. 

In the bad gastro period

The days right after chemo are sort of complicated for gastrointestinal stuff. I get a lot of heartburn (a thing I had NEVER had before chemo, and sort of believed in but didn't really understand), I have to take anti-nausea meds, and these things sort of combine to make it very hard to for me to tell when I'm hungry/not hungry. I have complained about this before.

Anyway, it's happening again, as it has happened before! And it's fine, and the anti-nausea meds mean that I don't get nauseous, but it still feels weird. And I'm a little tired. And my eyes get very dry. 

None of this is the worst, but I do think it's important (especially for future me, because when I feel good I forget that I ever felt bad) to remember that it's a real up and down process. 

I do want to point out that I expected it to be worse! I bought anti-diarrheals as well as laxatives because I was told that a lot of people had a lot of gastro problems with chemo! And I haven't needed them yet, so that's been nice. Similarly, I didn't get any mouth sores (yet) with AC chemo, and that was another thing I was told to expect. Very lucky! I have a mouth rinse specifically for dry mouth because this is a thing a lot of people experience. I've been doing ok with it. I do get dry eyes, so I carry eyedrops around now, and if I'm even a little tired, I get very squinty. It's fine, it's manageable. It's the new normal.

Some of my doctors have pointed out that I might be having an easier time than some other people who go through chemo because I started relatively young and healthy. And maybe. That's probably helping. But I have read plenty of accounts from people who were very young and very healthy and they got absolutely wrecked by chemo. So right now, I'm lucky. And I hope to remain lucky as I move into the next chemo phase. 

This morning I stood in front of the bathroom mirror in the basement and gave myself a little pep talk, and it went like this: "I'm not saying that the worst is over, but some of it is over! And that's still a really nice thing."

Yesterday, I made a very nice rice noodle stir fry with garlic, onion, tempeh, napa, carrots, cilantro, curry powder, and sweet thai chili sauce. Tonight, I'm going to make some pasta with kale and sweet potato, and maybe a cacio de pepe kind of treatment. I really enjoy cooking, and eating food that I made, and going "Oh this is actually very good!" so I'm happy I'm still able to do that. (while my hunger has been affected by meds, my taste buds have remained normal, thankfully).

Last AC Chemo done, next up: T chemo!

I had my last AC chemo treatment yesterday, and as per usual, I felt great in the morning and I felt terrible after! This is normal. All my bloodwork has been good, I've been tolerating the chemo very well. I would expect to continue feel a little crummy for the next few days, then start that upward arc back to feeling normal next week. In two weeks, I'll have my first T treatment, and that'll come with new challenges (mostly trying to minimize neuropathy, because nerve damage takes a long time to heal, if it heals at all). 

I have been struggling with the taste of saline (which is used constantly to flush out the port) -- it's weird because I'm not eating anything but when the fluid goes in, I taste it and it kind of tastes like nail polish. This time, I tried chewing gum (it helped) and sucking on lemon drops (not strong enough to overpower it! and, when I tried it with the infusion of anti-nausea meds that -- again, are injected directly into my bloodstream but I somehow also taste in my mouth -- taste like artificial banana, it just combined into a very unpleasant experience). Lessons learned. The lemon drops are very good and they'll just be a normal candy for me!

It's going to be 100 degrees, and the lawn is a little shaggy, but I'm just going to leave it alone because this is still a rest day, and I don't think it's great for grass to have to deal with mowing and extreme heat. Maybe next week.

I've got a mammogram next week to see if the AC has shrunk the areas of interest, and maybe some other scans as well, but nothing else has been scheduled yet. In two weeks, T (taxol) treatments start, and those will be every week instead of every other week. I'll have 12 of those. After that: mastectomy! (and then radiation.) So there's still a long way to go, but it's nice to be done with one part!

I'm feeling good today. Ate breakfast, took my meds, taking it easy. 

No updates because things have been good!

Hello! On Thursday, I will have my fourth and final AC chemo treatment, and then after that I will start T (taxol) chemo. I have handled the AC chemo pretty well (I say this from a little bit of distance from the last session, so I'm feeling good right now), and I'm hoping the T goes similarly smoothly, but you never know. One of the concerns with the T regimen is neuropathy, so I'm a little worried about that, but we'll see!

I have been doing my PT and OT exercises pretty much every day, in addition to a little bit of strength training with free weights and stationary bike time (it's very hot out so I am not doing too much outside exercise, though I am still going for walks sometimes). I have a little gym area set up in my basement and it's been very handy for this. I put on an episode of a food show to have playing in the background, and I spend 30-45 minutes going through everything. The hardest part of any routine is getting started, so even though I only have to do these exercises a couple of times a week, I have been doing them daily because I want to establish this habit and keep it going. It really does help my energy level to stay active. 

I continue to feel good! I am a little apprehensive about learning the new "here's when I feel bad" patterns with the next chemo treatment, but I am trying to stop myself from worrying before it's time to worry. I know how AC has gone, I still have one AC treatment left, and I'm going to get through that. 

It's hard to focus on the next thing instead of getting overwhelmed by EVERYTHING that will eventually happen, but I'm doing my best!

I did my PT and OT exercises and ate a vegetable

 I'm devastated to report that I now feel much better.

>:(

The first week after treatment continues to be challenging

The biggest issue is the anti-nausea meds (which are great) leading to me not being sure when I'm hungry, and then feeling very bloated. These are small problems. My energy level has been a little down lately, but I am feeling ok right now. All in all, it continues to be in line with what I was told to expect. I am eating well (even though it's very weird to eat when you're not hungry, and then never get hungry), I am doing my little exercises (I have even more little exercises from the physical therapist and the occupational therapist), and I am taking it easy. 

I do think that every treatment has been a little harder, and I am definitely getting TIRED of all the little things that are gross. Saline, for example, leaves a terrible taste in my mouth, and it gets flushed through the port all the time. There is also an anti-nausea drug that tastes like weird banana flavoring. It is awful. I need to start taking gum or something. Just every time I have to deal with these things, it's a little more like "Ugh I don't like this." In the beginning it was more like "Oh this is a little gross but it's fine, I'll get used to it." I did not get used to it! I got annoyed by it! In a way, this is good. This is very "me." 

I am ok with being annoyed by things. This is a very normal feeling, and it's all fine. I'm going to try chewing gum next time, and maybe that'll help! I'll keep you posted.

(Also all the drugs that I take to help manage my chemo symptoms smell terrible. They don't taste like anything but I open the bottle and I go "ugh" and then I take whatever it is I need to take so I don't feel bad. It's WEIRD.)

The physical nausea is well under control, but the psychological nausea is harder to address. 

2nd day after 3rd chemo

I'm about at 70%. I don't feel bad, just a little tired, a little bit of stomach stuff (normal). Nausea is under control with meds, and the steroids do help with my energy level. I took a nap with a cat, I had some good food, and I'm just taking it easy today.

P.S.

I went to World's of Fun with friends this week (we masked in the car and anytime we were inside buildings) and rode rollercoasters and saw a fireworks show and it was awesome.

3rd chemo treatment over!

It was fine! As always, I felt very drained and bad after treatment. About halfway through the second chemo medication, I feel like a sedative is kicking in, and everything is very heavy. I'm slightly sensitive to it so by the end, my nose is burning a little, but it's not too bad if they do it over an hour. Last time, they did it over half an hour and I got a pretty bad headache, so lesson learned. Afterwards, I went over to Ben's and slept for about 4 hours. The "not doing anything after chemo but resting" is so, so necessary. It's just not a day where a lot is going to be accomplished, aside from receiving chemo. 

All it all it took about three and a half hours. All my bloodwork was good, everyone is happy with how well I seem to be doing. One more AC treatment and then I move onto T. There will be 12 of those, and they will happen every week. The big concern there will be neuropathy, so I'm strategizing ice packs for my hands and feet. 

My weight has remained very stable, which is surprising given that half the time I don't know if I'm hungry or not, so there's a lot of just eating on a schedule and hoping for the best. I have been very lucky in that my sense of taste has not yet been affected. Chemo is so strange because it's so different from person to person that you really can't plan for anything. You just do it and see how YOU do with it. As I say, I have been very lucky. 

Today (day after chemo), I woke up feeling pretty normal. Not even too tired in the morning, but in the afternoon I got a shot to help my white blood cell count, and after that, I get a little tired. But not too bad! It's all not too bad. 

I continue to do well. I continue to go through the process, and accomplish my little tasks. No complaints.

Occupational therapy, doing things before you have to, and the specter of frailty

 I saw the occupational therapist yesterday and she was so excited about how relatively healthy I was at the time of our appointment! I'm being specific about this because apparently a lot of the time, the PT and OT only see people when they're closer to surgery and they've gone through more chemo and they're much weaker. This is not to say that I won't get weaker. This is just to say that I went "early" (I thought it was early) and turns out that's the right time to go. The way she explained it to me was that we're seeing how healthy I COULD be, and that way we'd have something to aim at after treatment and surgery. "We know you can get to this point, so we'll try to get you back to this point." 

So: hot tip for future cancer friends: Schedule your physical and occupational therapy visits for when you're still feeling good and doing well. They want to help keep you as strong and healthy as possible, and prepare you for the stuff that's coming. 

As with the physical therapist, the general notes were that physical exercise are good, moderate cardio (brisk walking but not wearing me out, biking if I feel up for it) and strength training are good and will help improve my outcomes, as well as give me more energy as I'm going through treatment. They'll also help me get to a good place to recover from when it's surgery time. As a note about mastectomies, I am not going to be doing reconstruction, and this apparently makes recovery MUCH simpler. This wasn't an issue for me, I was never bothered about losing my breasts. I don't care that much about them, and I won't miss them when they're gone. I understand that for many, many people, this is a traumatic decision, and I'm not trying to minimize it when I mention that it wasn't a big deal for me. Everyone's different, and everyone's relationship to their body is different.

I'm going back in a couple of weeks and they're going to give me exercises and stretches to do to prepare my body for the changes it's going to be going through, and then I'll continue to see them throughout the process so they can keep an eye on how I'm doing and we can adjust this approach as needed. I continue to be impressed by the team of people I have working with me.

Switching gears from appointments and hospitals, I went to Lawrence to have dinner with a dear friend who I never see as often as I would like. We sat on a beautiful patio and ate delicious food and caught up on the last year, and it was so nice. I had worried that I'd be too tired to go, I didn't know how I'd do driving at night, sometimes I don't feel entirely 100%, so there were all these things that I had considered before even making the plans, and then when I went, I was so glad that I'd decided to go. I was fine. I wasn't too tired, I didn't have any trouble driving, but all these things I have to think about now feel weird and bad and a little bit scary. 

I feel good now, but all these conversations with people (medical professionals, friends, internet acquaintances) where they praise how well I'm doing are surrounded with these spaces where I know they're not saying "you won't feel this good forever, other people who go through this have a hard time, what if what if what if." By way of illustration, I have a cane in my closet, and my partner keeps a cane by his front door. I don't need a cane yet. But I might. And so these canes are there, waiting for a moment that may or may not come. And I see them every day.

It's good for me to frame it like "I'm doing so well, I'm doing what I need to do to continue to do as well as possible" but the flip side of that is "It's going to get worse. It's just going to get worse and I'm going to have to keep going because this is what is required of me." It's very strange. 

I think that people are afraid of cancer because anything that can turn your body into your own death is very scary. But I also think they are afraid of cancer because we all think we know what it looks like. It's the bald head and the dark circles under the eyes and that strange, waxy translucence to the skin, and it's someone who is VERY BRAVE and trying SO HARD and is SO TIRED and the idea of becoming whatever that is is terrifying because when you're healthy and able-bodied, the cultural messaging is that you never want to be not that. 

Fun side note though: eventually we will all experience decline and disability in some form. It's inevitable. The cultural messaging around here (America, Canada, many other places) is that you are valuable when you are healthy and you are nothing when you're not, and this is, very simply, ableism! It takes a lot of work to unlearn it, but I highly recommend that you start, because eventually, if you don't pay attention, you may find yourself casually saying things like "well why shouldn't the people who can't do X or Y just die" (a popular and horrifying statement that was BARELY subtext by public health officials at peak pandemic) and then you've taken a shocking little detour into eugenics town.

ANYWAY, from the perspective of a person currently in a cancer-having body, I will tell you that I'm not excited about it! But I would compare it to getting older. It's just like "oh this is my body now. Wild. Oh I guess I can't lift very heavy things without thinking about my back. Oh I guess the human knee is actually a complete disaster all the time. Oh I guess I have to wear sunscreen and drink more water and I can't have pizza three days in a row or my stomach gets real angry." 

You think it's going to be unfathomable until you do it, and then it's just your life. 

Physical Therapy Day

Today, I had an appointment with a physical therapist well in advance of surgery because I wanted to establish a baseline before I lost anything more to chemo. The idea is that I get tips and exercises to do now, as long as I am feeling like I can do it, because once I have surgery, I'm going to have to scale way back. I'm actually meeting with an occupational therapist later this week who will have more information for me about the kinds of things I will need to do to recover from that surgery. 

The main takeaways from today are that my activity level/balance/etc. are all good, and I need to keep going with it. Exercise will keep my energy up, exercises that prioritize stability and strength are going to be really important, and there's a lot of research that suggests that a certain amount of exercise (like 150 minutes a week at a moderate intensity) will not only make my experience right now easier, it'll also improve my outcomes and lower my risk of the cancer recurring. (Once again: "biking is great physically and even better if it's helping your psyche.")

I also learned that some of my posture stuff is less that ideal and I need to be more aware of positioning (specifically my right knee). They want me to come back once or twice before surgery so we can formulate an exercise plan that can not only focus on that strength and core element, but also can help stabilize my back. It's exciting!

As per usual, explaining that I "played too much Animal Crossing and gave myself tennis elbow" got a laugh, and the physical therapist suggested I mention this to the occupational therapist, because they'll have some exercises to suggest that will help me with my occasional videogame-related elbow pain. 

Finally losing my hair

 It started coming out in the shower tonight, so I'll probably clipper it down again in the morning to avoid additional shedding. I had wondered when it would happen! Turns out, treatment 2!

I went in today to get an injection that helps with my white blood cell count. It has some very silly brand name. Apparently it can cause bone pain, but taking Claritin can help with that (a nurse mentioned it yesterday but it wasn't mentioned at any other time, so I mention it here in case any of you ever find it helpful). I haven't experienced the bone pain, and I take generic Claritin for allergies, so that's lucky!

I overdid it on chemo day and no one was surprised (not even me)

So for the first chemo treatment, I walked to my partner's house afterwards (it's only three blocks away and many people scolded me) and then I napped for like 5 solid hours. This was great. I didn't feel great but I mostly slept through it, so when I got home, I was tired, but it wasn't too bad.

For the second chemo treatment, I did call my partner come pick me up rather than walking (yay!) I scheduled a meeting for about three hours after I got done (boo!), because I wanted to get it out of the way before the holiday. The meeting went great and I regret absolutely nothing. However, this means I slept for maybe an hour between getting back and having a meeting, and then I didn't really go back to sleep much after that (maybe another hour, a lot of time lying on the floor with an ice pack).

Complicating all of it, the second chemo medication was given at a faster rate than the first time, and I experienced a little sensitivity to it (not dangerous, and I could have asked them to change the rate, but I was like "yes! faster!") and the downside to that was it felt like my nose was burning a little and I got a headache. I was also on my period. I will never not be mad that I have to be on my period while also having chemo. This is stupid. It's too many things.

In addition to all of that, every chemo treatment builds. So my expectation is that each one will get harder, and I will feel worse each time, and it'll take me longer to bounce back to feeling better, even with the steroids and the anti-nausea meds.

Anyway, there are many factors as to why I felt worse yesterday than I did after the first treatment. But mostly, I need to not schedule anything after chemo. After chemo is a time for me to rest, and revisit my ongoing dream of being Darth Vader's Dirtbag Friend, in which a beleaguered Darth Vader is constantly lending me his space car and I'm always bringing it back 1. damaged 2. full of snack wrappers 3. never fueled up and I DO NOT MENTION ANY OF THESE THINGS but I do say thank you. Anyway I don't know why this is the recurring Star Wars dream I have now, but I love it. This is a healing dream. I need to just go in on this, instead of "trying to be exceptional at my job" (which is going to happen anyway, it's fine). 

Anyway, I've been confronted with the limits of my body! It's nothing new. I have a bad back and migraines, so I have been confronted with these limits before. I like to say "I am not my body" because it sounds cool, but what I really mean is "I am not just my body." That said, my body is pretty important, and the way it feels is inescapable to me, the person who dwells within it. I would compare my discomfort yesterday to a mild migraine, in terms of "feeling bad across a number of axes but not TOO bad, didn't throw up, DID believe I would probably feel this way forever." (A thing about migraines is when they are happening I always think that they'll never go away despite so much evidence to the contrary. And then when they go away, I'm shocked and delighted. Like a child.)

My partner drove me home last night and took care of everything around the house -- fed and medicated cats, cleaned litterboxes, brought trash and recycling containers in, etc, spent time with the cats so they got attention, checked on me -- and I took a shower and went straight to bed. I woke up at 2 a.m. feeling much better.

Having gone through the entire day, I would say that last night was a little like the night you might have after you've had way, way, way, WAY too much to drink and your body is like "what did you just do to me? please drink water, lie down, get an ice pack, let's try to get all of this out of our system as quickly as possible." And I mean, basically I'm getting a big dose of poison to try to kill the cancer, and the hope is that I'm strong enough to get through it relatively well. So far so good. You might be reading this and going "This doesn't sound that great, what are you talking about," and what I will say to you is that I used to drink Mad Dog 20/20 in college (parents, don't look this up). And amaretto sours. I have definitely felt worse. 

I debated writing about this because I know that any time I admit that I'm not feeling great, people get really worried. Please remember that I am going through chemo because I have cancer. I am going to have lots and lots of days where I don't feel great. It's built into the equation, and there's no getting around it. It doesn't change my attitude at all. I'm here, I'm grateful, I love seeing all my medical professional folks, I feel good about my treatment plan and my future, and I'm going to continue to do things in the world even as I have days that aren't so great. 

I will take it easy on chemo days from now on, though. I can learn this one thing. But when I'm feeling good, I'm going to go for bike rides! You'll never stop me! Ha hah!

Before I forget: A lot of people I know peripherally (not close friends, maybe former co-workers or spouses of friends or social media friends) have reached out to give me advice based on their lived experience with this process (either as patients or as care providers). Not always specifically breast cancer, but health concerns, other types of cancer, etc. I appreciate this so much. With every conversation I feel less alone, and more prepared for the things that are coming. As I have said before, there is community everywhere you turn. It's really a lovely and remarkable thing. I'm so lucky to have this. 

Second chemo treatment: Accomplished!

I had my second chemo treatment today. Apparently all of my bloodwork has looked great, levels are where they need to be, and based on the questions they ask (about side effects I did not experience like bone pain, mouth sores, changes in the way foods taste, sleep disruption, etc), I seem to be doing pretty well so far!

They switched the long-lasting anti-nausea medication to something that I did not have an allergic reaction to (success!), and start to finish, I think I was only there for a little over 3 hours. Last time it was closer to 5, so that's pretty neat! 

My doctors and nurses are all fantastic, I sit in a comfortable chair that has a heater and a massage function and I had a pudding cup (vanilla) and a generic gelatin snack cup (strawberry), and even tried the coffee (it was ok, not amazing, but not bad!). 

I'm a little tired now, so I'm probably going to rest for a couple of hours. I did not walk to my partner's house from the hospital this time -- so many people yelled at me for that last time! Today it was 100 degrees out, so I didn't think it would be the best choice for me. I will admit this very grudgingly. 

So that's it! I'll continue to update with how I'm feeling after this treatment. The first treatment went really smoothly, even with the little hiccup of being allergic to some medication. So far it's been some very manageable nausea, a little headache while getting one of the medications (that went away after about 20 minutes), some fatigue (which has been better since I started being more active but that might have also coincided with timing. I don't have enough data to confidently say that it's definitely because of my bike rides, but maybe!) and that's it. No changes to how things taste, no changes to appetite, I don't sleep super well but that's mostly the fault of the cats (I do sleep well enough and I'm keeping normal hours so I haven't gotten out of cycle on that SPECIFIC FRIEND WHO THINKS ABOUT THESE THINGS). It's good!

Adventures in the world

Yesterday, I went to a little Mexican restaurant on the Westside (they had very cute patio tables and they weren't busy) and had an incredible barbacoa street taco, a breakfast taco, and some aguas frescas (there was a pineapple one and a watermelon one). When I went to pay, the owner said "Can I ask you a question?" and I said yes. "Is that a port?" and then he explained that he knew it was a port, because his wife had just finished chemo and was going to be doing radiation next. We talked for a bit, he talked about how he encourages people who are going through it to just keep going, and to stay strong, and I told him how grateful I was for all the things that had aligned in my process. I told him I hoped his wife's treatment continues to go well and she recovers fully and quickly. They're going to pray for me. It was a very nice little moment out in the world, where having cancer isn't a secret, and there's community to find everywhere you go. 

Friday morning update: Not bad, a little weird

I read a thing a while back that said about ten days after chemo, you'd feel a little bit like you had a flu. They have made it very clear to me that if I get any sort of fever, I need to go directly to the hospital, so I was curious about this description. How can you feel flu-y without having a fever? Well, the mystery has been solved. I personally feel overly hot and sweaty and a little gross, but my temperature is totally normal. (I don't even feel that bad, I'm just VERY sweaty.) It's wild! I'm happy to not be running a fever, and I guess it's good practice for the future. My medical oncologist also mentioned that chemo can kick some people into menopause, so that could also be happening! Bodies are an eternal mystery. 

No nausea this morning, which was great. I am getting better about making sure I eat before I go to bed (empty stomach seems to be a big problem for me when it comes to feeling less good). They even suggested keeping snacks by the bed, which...I am a person who only eats food in designated areas of the house, so I can't even consider this as a solution yet. We'll see if things get harder!

I'll probably go for a little walk later, but I'm having a nice, quiet morning.