It has been a week since my third round of this chemo and I still can’t seem to get enough rest. More than the constipation, nausea, and general flu like feelings, the tiredness is kicking my butt. Instead of sleeping something like 18 hours a day, I think I am closer to 16 . I guess that is a win? I am not certain anymore though.

Scotty has been coming with me for these treatments…

Could I go by myself? Yes, I could, but I really love having him with me. As soon as we get home I shower and sleep until the next day. My appointments are at 9 am, we are home by about 10:30 or 11, and I am in bed before noon. I AM OUT after that. Ultimately this is a good thing, I think, because it prevents me from getting sick and possibly throwing up. I hate throwing up.

I’m over a week out at this point and I am still exhausted. That seems to stay until a few days before my next infusion. I had hoped that it would not be as bad once radiation was over, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.

No one wants to hear this but as we age it becomes more and more of an issue…number two sucks. If it isn’t running out of you it is stuck in you. The chemotherapy before had it running. This one is making it stick. I never knew how painful constipation could be! It is a bit like being in labor…the pain is so uncomfortable that it wakes me up at night and I am unable to sleep. Rest assured that I am doing all kinds of things to handle this. So far, nothing is working all that well. But then one day all the medicines will kick in at once and “unplug” the clog. Just NO. I would rather have diarrhea I think….I’m over this side effect.

I would like to point out how much hair I have now. Even though I am not a fan of the tight coarse curls that sit on my head, I am extremely grateful that my hair seems to be growing through this treatment. We had family pictures taken a week ago and Scott told me we should use them for our Christmas card. My mouth dropped and I told him I could have a hair growth spurt in a month so we needed to wait. His look was priceless. Needless to say, no one thinks that massive growth spurt is coming.

As my hair on my head grows the lashes on my eyes seem to keep falling out or breaking off. Can I just tell you that I love my eyelashes, and you should love yours too. I am over the tears that drip out of my eyes every time the lashes on the corners fall out. Also, no eyelashes make me look sick and tired in the mirror. I hate that. In fact one of the most frustrating things is waking up and feeling pretty darn good (all things considered) and seeing my face looking so tired and sick. Many a mornings I give myself a pep talk about the mirror not reflecting what I am feeling. I just really, really want my eyelashes to grow back. Stay tuned because I am using an eyelash serum to help them get stronger. Fingers crossed it will start to work!

Next week I start getting my echocardiograms again to monitor how my heart is doing. This treatment is hard on the heart so I will have these every few months. If something showed up treatment would need to be postponed until things calmed down. It is similar to the testing done with my liver. Positive thinking that my organs will pull through this and that I will be able to receive all the medicine needed.

I’m off to bed….again.

My radiation oncologist did tell me that the effects of radiation would continue for five days past my last treatment, and, he was correct. The most intense burning, heat, and true pain was at the worst on day five. How people go though radiation with blisters and open wounds or scabs, I have no idea, truly. The amount of “discomfort” would be phenomenal! Please, take a minute and think about the different areas of our body that cancer can grow and radiation could be needed….I spoke with a woman whose mother had vaginal cancer and needed radiation…there are no words. I will say it again, I am lucky to have this specific type of cancer.

In case you forgot I had all my lymph nodes radiated but the mammary ones because they were too close to my heart. The larger area radiated, my breast, back, and armpit started to peel last week end. I went to bed with a blood red, fire breathing patch of skin and woke up to a snake shedding its skin.

It was pretty disgusting if you would like to know. The skin fell off in pretty small pieces and all while being asleep. Scott and I got out of bed that morning and I started screaming. That flaked off skin looked like a million little bugs had tried to attack me while I slept. Since I had not removed my shirt I had no idea it was my skin. Let’s just say I didn’t need coffee to be alert that day.

As the skin started to fall off the heat went away with it. It felt like my skin had been holding it’s breath too long and could finally breath again. In the image above you can see it started to peel under the armpit and just below my implant. My clavicle is a different story.

My clavicle area was the least bothersome location out of all the treated areas. First, nothing really rubs against it or touches it. Second, the skin doesn’t get moved with every movement. However, it did not want to heal. Once the skin began to peel off of the radiation burn it looked like the image above. Now after the skin fell off it started to hurt. I could feel my heartbeat in it. Emery had some silvadine cream leftover from a burn she had so i started to put that on the darn spot. Thankfully this finally helped it start to heal.

Above are pictures of the two areas I took yesterday. It is clear to see that they look pretty darn good. There is still discoloration across my side, armpit, implant, and chest but, no open wounds. Scott said last night he feels like I am doing “too good” with this whole cancer thing. Everyone else we know with cancer keeps getting infections, needing additional injections, or is failing to the point of needing hospitalization, then there is me. I think there is a little fear that if everything goes well again the shoe will drop at the end of this.

The big question is why did my skin do so well and others does not? No idea. Of course, I tried my hardest to everything I could to help my body heal from the inside out. I drank a ton of water. I slept like a hibernating bear (umm, let’s be clear, still doing this one). I ate as many vegetables as I possibly could, then I made vegetable soup, in 104 degree weather, and forced myself to eat more. I lathered on lotions before the radiation even got started and reapplied multiple times a day. Take your pick, any one of those things could have been the reason. Then again it could just be that I am young and healthy. Well for a cancer patient!

If you are reading this and are going through radiation here are the products that I used on my skin. I purchased everything on Amazon because it was cheaper but you can find these at any Walmart or Target. They are linked directly to what I purchased (I am now an affiliate so will get a small commission if you do purchase them).

Aquaphor

Lanolin

Silver Gel

Dove bars of soap with no dye or scent

Pack of Men’s tagless extra soft breathable BLACK shirts - big enough for me to stretch on and not have to tug, breathable for the heat to escape, black so that I didn’t look like I was participating in a wet t-shirt contest that had one contestant 24 hours a day.

Saran Wrap - if you don’t want to wait for the lotions to absorb you can wrap yourself with this. I didn’t do this until week 4 and only then because I wanted that cream to stay on longer.

Heart pillows (from mastectomy) or small pillows to place under your arms so skin is not touching or rubbing. I now have 4 of these pillows, I LOVE THEM!

Medical gloves if you don’t like touching sticky creams. I didn’t use them but it got to a point where I couldn’t move my body to reach all the areas that needed moisturizing and my kids had to have the gloves to help me.

Hydrocortisone cream - your skin starts to itch like a bad case of poison ivy. Made the mistake of gently scratching my chest area and ripped off a chunk of skin. Only did that once! I carried this in my purse or pocket at all times once the itching started.

Yesterday Scott shocked me by asking if I realized that we had entered month 16 of my fight against cancer. Could it really be month 16 already? To date I have had 9 surgeries, 19 rounds of chemo (and counting), and 25 radiation treatments. I have lost both my breasts, my nipples, my armpit lymph nodes on the left side of my body, and my hair. It is still hard to wake up each morning and remember that this is my life, so far from the one that 17 months ago I was living. Instead of focusing on what was I am trying to celebrate every small miracle that is granted to prolong my life and yesterday one of those milestones was met.

I have not written often over the duration of my radiation treatments. Truthfully, I don’t know what to say. Each day, five days a week, I go to the office, change into a hospital gown and sit in a waiting room full of other patients, all with cancer. Some days one of the patients wants to lament the fact they have cancer, other days a patient wants to tell their story, but most days we all sit and wait in silence. Once your name is called you walk into the radiation room and lay down on a hard metal table with the machine above your head ready to administer the treatment that might finally annihilate the cancer cells in your body that want to kill you. After your treatment is done you go back to the waiting room, change, and go home. There is only one exception to this routine and that is when the oncologist checks your skin to ensure it is still safe to radiate it. It is monotonous.

Radiation does not bring about an instantaneous side effect, like chemotherapy. Instead it takes weeks of being radiated daily to start to “see” how your body is handling the treatment. You are lulled into believing that your skin can take it because of this delay. I am pretty sure no one can get away unscathed from radiation. Below is how my skin looked at the beginning of each week of treatment. The X at the top left of my body is a sticker that they use to line me up with the radiation grid before each treatment. This is not a permanent tattoo like the dots on my body in previous posts. Most often they call the X your tumor marker.

Pictures do not capture exactly how discolored my skin got nor does it show how intense the heat is from the burned skin. In a post on social media I explained it as feeling like the entrance to Hell was through my armpit. To a friend I described it as having Satan sitting in my armpit. Either way my armpit and chest HURT. The pain is definitely getting worse. Over the past three nights I have been moaning so loudly in my sleep that it has woken Scott up. Last night I moved and the pain was so intense it woke me up.! Below is my skin after round 23.

With the pain intensifying it gives me great pleasure to say that I am officially now done with radiation and I have the diploma to prove it!

With how much I disliked radiation treatment, there was one component that I loved; my radiation technician team. Over the months and months of cancer treatment I can’t think of anything I would label “fun” but seeing them each day made it fun. They are going to forever be in my heart. I made them cookies and wrote them thank you cards but really that was not enough. When they came to get me from the waiting room they were signing “celebrate today, come on!” while clapping and dancing around. I am really going to miss them.

I want to feel some sense of finality but I am beginning to understand that it might never come. Cancer is a fight to survive. During that struggle you straddle the line between life and death as you consume every medicine or treatment in pursuit of adding days, months, or years to your life. I think that there is never a feeling of being done. So instead I will keep doing what I can and celebrating each milestone.

Last Friday I had my second dose of TDM1. It was another day of doubling up on treatments with radiation in the morning and chemo in the afternoon, I was tapped out by dinner time. Scotty had a meeting so my mom tagged along for this one.

The medicine did not bring out any adverse reactions during my last infusion so I was able to have the medicine given over 30 minutes instead of 3 hours. I can’t decide which is better. When the medicine is slower I feel like I have less reactions to it. This could be in my head but I feel more sick after receiving the medicine quicker.

Overall the side effects have been the same; nausea, constipation, exhaustion, lack of energy, severe headaches, and no appetite.I guess I am starting to accept feeling like this as my new normal.

During my younger years two a days meant I had a swim practice in the early morning and then again in the late afternoon. Sometimes there was dryland training before afternoon practice too. The practices were challenging and I didn’t always want to be there, but I went. I can attest that anything you do twice in one day is tough but right now I would gladly jump in the pool as the sun is waking up and setting than another set of radiation and chemo on the same day. Thankfully I am close to being finished with the 25 rounds of radiation, so today should be the last time I have to double up on treatment.

When I started to research what to expect with radiation numerous women informed me that they chose not to work during treatment. There was no one constant answer as to why but all of them circled around how their skin felt and how they felt physically. I, of course, decided I could handle it just fine and instead kept up my normal workload. If you are following this blog then it is blatantly obvious that I am not able to keep up with life. Once I am done with my work, family, and the house I sleep. All the time. Scott and I were trying to keep track of exactly how much I sleep in one day and I think it is close to 15 hours.

My skin is holding up okay so far. Over the past few weeks they have changed my topical creams twice. Right now I am using SilverGel. It seems to be working better than aquafor, lanolin, and aloe vera. Fingers are crossed that my skin holds for the last five treatments. If I start to get open wounds then we will have to postpone the last sessions. I do not want to do that.

As for chemo the last round seemed okay. I felt tired. Shocker. I also had constipation really bad. So much fun. This medicine is making me feel sicker than the TCH. There are lots of drugs to help with the side effects which I am very grateful for. I do not want to vomit. I hate vomiting. Not sure if things will be the same after I get the infusion this afternoon but fingers are crossed that all goes well and the side effects stay at a minimum.

I have finished up week two of radiation and all I can say is the sooner it is over the better. Life feels like I am living inside a mud pit. No matter how hard I try to move faster, I can’t. My body feels like it is in slow motion. I feel a little out of body over the sensation because my mind, at times, seems to be moving at normal speed. I don’t know but the tiredness is not getting better as the chemo side effects settle in my body.

As frustrating as it is to fall asleep without attempting, even in the middle of a discussion, I am beginning to embrace it. My body is a hot mess, literally. I’m in bed by 6 if I am home. If not then by 8 at the latest. I might not like being sleepy but this past week has set me straight. I need a nap. It is a bit like having a newborn baby, but I am the newborn….

The patient waiting room at radiation is also not my cup of tea. First I am the youngest person in there by a solid 15, maybe even 20 years, and all these people do is complain about getting cancer. It is reminiscent of the breast cancer class I had to go to after my bilateral mastectomy. I know it is wrong of me but I want to slap them. Am I sorry they got cancer? Yes, yes I am. But it is hard for me to sit and listen to them complain that they may not get to see their grandchild graduate from college. No joke I sit there trying to tune them out because if not I am afraid I will scream at them…obviously I need to start doing more yoga.

Later tonight I will snap a picture of my skin after week two. So far it looks okay but I have been warned side effects don’t show up until week three. Guess next week things are going to start getting dicey.

As much as I want to do everything in my power to kill every speck of cancer in my body, I have been dreading the day that cancer treatment started back up again. The first time I did this I had no idea what to expect. There is something to be said about going in blind. I know how I am going to feel and I hate knowing that soon I will be worn down again. Adding radiation to the equation, and at the same time as chemo, means that the side effects are going to be more pronounced. I can tell you that Friday was a very, very long day.

In the morning I had my radiation treatment. When I got home I fed the kids and immediately fell asleep on the couch. My mom came to pick me up for my chemo at 1:15 and subsequently woke me. When I say I am tired I mean it.

Scott had a meeting so my mom waited with me until he could get to my appointment. With this being the first round of a new treatment I had to be monitored during and after the infusion. All that means is that the appointment was real long.

There is no way to prepare for chemo, especially when I knew what was coming. But I will say that I had worked it out in my head that this was still not going to be “as bad” as traditional chemotherapy, after all, it was a targeted chemotherapy treatment. I was wrong. When the nurse had to put on her hazmat suit (what I call the garments nurses have to put on when handling chemo meds) to get my medicine started I almost started to cry. I just really, really want this not to be what my life is. I really want to not NEED this medicine. But I do so there I sat as they explained all the allergic reactions I could have. It is truly terrifying knowing that you are willingly having something so toxic put into your body in the hopes of prolonging your life.

Thankfully I never had an allergic reaction. I was so tired it took everything in my power to stay awake in case I started to feel funny. By the time I was finished and Scott got me home all I wanted to do was shower off all the medical offices I had been in and go to bed. Which was exactly what I did and why I was alseep by 6 pm on Friday night. If you are wondering I didn’t wake up till 5 am the next morning.

So far in regards to side effects I am exhausted. It is more intense than when I had chemo a year ago. I feel broken-down. My stomach is unhappy so I am taking the anti-nausea medicines like candy. There is more muscle pain than I remember which makes me think the bone pain is going to show itself in the coming weeks. I have more headaches and I feel like it is from the chemo and radiation since they started shortly after I began rads.

It sucks but I am trying hard to be present especially for the kids. I made it to their swim meet yesterday and collapsed once we were finally home. Today I have hardly been able to get out of the chair my body is so weak. But I am glad I went yesterday. There is no guarantee that I will get to attend all their meets and I will not let Cancer steal another minute of my time with my children.

I have been dragging my feet on finding time to sit down and write over the last week because once I do things seem more real and there is still a very large piece of me that fiercely wants THIS to not be my life, or another chapter to my story. It is a hard acceptance.

Last week I had my orientation for radiation. It involved a bunch of CT images and was followed up by me receiving my first, and only ever, tattoos.

The small dot above is not a mole, that is the tattoo for radiation alignment. I have two additional “dots”, one between my breast and the other under my armpit on the opposite side. While laying down on the table a red grid is used to line up your body into the perfect spot ensuring the radiation hits the correct spot at each treatment.

I also have a this beautiful sharpie X above my left implant that is covered by waterproof tape. This has to remain on my body for the duration of the 25 rounds. The mark also helps the radiation techs find the right spot during each round of radiation. Can I just tell you I am glad that the X is not permanent?

Above is not the machine that gives the radiation treatment, it is a normal CT machine. A “map” of my breast had to be made for the doctor to graph where the radiation needs to be given. They use the CT imaging to create this map. The reason I have the picture is for the “pillow” on the table. That is my special pillow for each treatment. Once they have me in the exact location they want me in, that pillow is inflated with air and my name written on it. It might sound comfortable but it is not. After being inflated it is rock hard. I hate it.

I am not allowed to have my phone with me in the actual treatment room so I had Scott take this picture before he had to leave the room. The kids always want to know what is happening and what the machine looks like, so I used this image to show them and explain. The physical radiation machine is all open and moves around your body in a circular motion. Depending on where you are being treated the radiation can be administered on the top of your body or underneath you through your back. I am getting both and can feel a much warmer sensation when the radiation is given underneath me than on the top.

Monday I started this treatment. Today is Wednesday (3:13 right now). I am not a fan of radiation so far. It is just not comfortable. The actual treatment only takes about 15 minutes but the waiting and attempting (it is still hard for me to get my arms above my head fully) to keep my arms above my head without shaking is difficult. You are not suppose to feel anything but I can feel a warmth as the radiation is given. Afterwards I lather myself up like a Thanksgiving turkey in hopes of salvaging my skin and any burning or wounds that might come in the next few weeks.

Truthfully it is a super weird treatment. I think I am going to have to start researching how it was created, and by whom because as I lay there each day I am fascinated that someone was able to devise this insane procedure.

The side effects are suppose to be manageable and two days in I can say so far so good. I am more tired than usual and have upped my coffee intake to get through the day. Pretty sure no one wants to be reminded of my bowels, but the short reprieve from diarrhea is over…go figure that is the side effect I get again. One good thing is that the chemo I will be getting is known to cause constipation so perhaps they will counterbalance each other and I will be normal?! Probably not, but I am going to go with a glass half full approach and be hopeful. As for chemo my first treatment will be this Friday. Yippee, skippy.

Every one wants to know how I am, and the answer is fine. Really, I loathe that question. First I get asked it over and over. I hate it. I don’t want to talk about cancer. I don’t want to be reminded that I am fighting this stupid, horrible disease again. I don’t want cancer to be any part of my life. The last week I got to go back to being “normal” again. I got to be Brody, Reyna, and Emery’s mom. I got to be Scott’s wife. I had a normal amount of energy and even attempted a run. I felt like me, the old me, before cancer. There was no one asking how treatment was, how surgery went, how I was doing. It was one of the best weeks of my life….and now, it is over.

I believe that I am tough and that our mind has a huge impact on how we heal. I believe that God has a plan for each of us and that he still has a lot of work left he wants me to do. I believe in the power of prayer. I believe in being hopeful. I believe that love can heal all things. These are the reasons I am fine. No matter how hard things get I just remind myself of those five things and I am good.

Physically I am starting to breakdown a bit and I am prepared for it to get worse. Mentally I am still really sad. There are moments where I sit and sob in the shower, but that’s okay. I am also really happy. I am still here on this Earth with Scotty and my babies to wrap my arms around. I guess I am becoming bipolar. You would have to ask my mom, but I don’t think I have ever been one to complain, it doesn’t change the outcome. You live the life that you have been given and that is what I am going to continue to do, no matter how many times I have to restart this battle.

After four different visits with doctors all over Northern California, extensive reading of research articles in medical journals, and a whole heck of a lot of praying by me for guidance, we have decided on the best course of treatment: radiation and more chemotherapy.

Radiation last time was not offered because my lymph nodes appeared be “cancer free” and I had a bilateral mastectomy. This time every doctor we have seen feels it is the most important treatment to have. My radiation oncologist is LEGIT. His credentials are not often seen in the valley, in fact Scott and I both asked him what he was doing here with his resume and love of research? Come to find out his wife is also a RO and was hired at UCSF to do research which prompted them to moved across the country. They both thought his job in the valley would be one year, that was almost 15 years ago and he is still here.

A doctor’s resume might not seem to be of much importance, but in this case it is. The recommendation on the chemotherapy side is for me to mimic a study that was published in The New England Journal of Medicine in December of 2018. That study, often referred to as “The Katherine Trials”, was groundbreaking for HER2+ breast cancer patients that were metastatic stage 3 (you can read the trial or a synopsis under my treatment page here.under the name Kadcyla). It specifically focused on women that had HER2+ cancer that TCH or TCHP ( I received TCH) was not able to shrink the tumor or get a complete pathological response from treatment before they had surgery. Since I had surgery first, then treatment, it makes me a bit different than the study. One area is the same and that is the chemotherapy medicines did not stop the cancer for myself or the women in the study. So why is my radiation oncologist’s resume so important? It’s because this study had the patients do radiation and chemotherapy concurrent, or at the same time. After being in the room with me for two minutes my radiation oncologist brought up the Katherine Trial and how he wanted to follow the same treatment regimen.

With surgery only being about three weeks ago we need to let my left side heal a bit more before we start shooting laser beams at it. However, no one on my team wants to wait long to get treatment started again so I will have the simulator run through for radiation on the 8th. At that time they will get me on the table and using a CT machine map out where the radiation is going to focus. They will also tattoo markers onto my body to help ensure that they hit the correct spot at each treatment. My first physical radiation treatment will be on July 15th and I should be finished up around the middle of August. In total I will receive 25 treatments. They are given every day Monday through Friday allowing some recovery time on the weekend.

Right now I don’t have the specific day I will go in for my first infusion of the new chemotherapy treatment but it will be the week of the 15th. Again, the radiation and chemotherapy need to be given at the same time. Kadcyla, or T-DM1, is a pretty amazing medication. It is a targeted treatment but different from Herceptin (the medical name is actually trastuzumab and that is the T in T-DM1) because the chemotherapy medicine is actually in the drug itself. I pulled these images from the Kadcyla webpage to hopefully help explain how this treatment works.

It is a remarkable drug and I hope that it is strong enough to attack the cancer cells lingering in my body hiding out. You can see in the images that it is a targeted treatment and that means that it is not going to kill every rapidly developing cell in my body like traditional chemotherapy does. My hair should not fall out which is great for my kids. The healthier I look the less scary it is for them and that is one small thing to be grateful for. I will have a total of 14 treatments given every three weeks until complete putting me at being done around the beginning of summer next year.

I have tried hard to never sugar coat anything on this blog so here is the truth; this treatment is going to suck. It is strong, stronger than herceptin. Don’t be mislead that because it is targeted it is not chemo, this is chemo just administered more precisely. I will need to have blood work done every three weeks to monitor platelets plus red and white blood counts. I will need to have my liver checked every three weeks and eliminate any Tylenol and alcohol to protect it. The echocardiograms I have been doing will continue . every three months. With the radiation there is more concern with skin issues and I will have to have my lungs monitored for inflammation. My hand was shaking when I signed the release form accepting the fate on my body from the treatment.

It is scary….and I am scared. More than any other emotion I feel fear. Fear that it won’t be enough. Fear that I will go through this all again and the cancer inside me will find a way to grow again. Fear that the medicine will hurt something else inside me. Fear that I have almost no control of my life and my future. I am scared to start the treatment and also scared we are waiting to long to start it. I really wish I could go for a run or a swim and clear my head but neither are an option at this point which frustrates the hell out of me.

Scott had planned a big celebratory vacation for us after cancer. We were suppose to leave for Kauai today. But we had to cancel it, just like we canceled Disney World last year. I think that this is the hardest part for me, more than the surgeries, treatments, and side effects is the life my children and husband are having to live because of all this. They were so excited (just like Disney World) to go to Kauai. My kids have been doing extra chores and saving money for the trip. They bought new swimsuits and even did research on excursions they wanted to do (Scott booked them but thankfully we got our money back). There faces when we told them that another vacation was going to have to be put on hold, well it bruises my heart. We are going to try to do some fun things around here to make up for it, but it isn’t the same.

I know that what is coming is going to be challenging and I have always loved a good challenge. If I might ask, please be sensitive with my kids, especially Emery. She is the most scared out of my three and often asks me if I am going to die and if she will ever see me again. I beg you not to ask them questions but to come to Scott, myself, my parents or my siblings. If my kids wants to talk about this let them bring it up. They are exceptional children and have amazing friends, some that they want to talk to about this, but often they just want to be kids. I desperately need them to be kids, to be silly and sassy, to laugh and run and just live. It is the best medicine for me.

On Monday Scotty and I went to see the surgeon to receive the pathology from the ALND (axillary lymph node dissection) surgery. Originally the PET scan showed that there appeared to be more than one node involved, however, the pathology came back showing only one. We obviously had questions.

First, and most important, did they get all the tumors out or was there more in there that they some how missed?! After further discussion with the surgeon, and him actually calling and talking with the doctor that had done the dissection, we think the reason the imaging showed more than one node with cancer was because of two reasons. The lymph node biopsied had a metal medical marker clip put inside it. This procedure left an indentation on the node and also removed a chunk to be sent off to confirm that it was cancer. All of that was done prior to the PET scan so it made that node appear to be split in half or more like tightly bundled grapes. The second reason could have been simply a false negative on the PET scan. Bottom line is that all the nodes in the region that had the cancer node were removed.

Second, we wanted to know how many nodes were removed. There was a total of 16 nodes taken out. Each ALND is different because all of us have a different number of lymph nodes. I was told that if you are heavier you tend have more nodes and if you are thinner you have less. This means there is no magic or correct number of nodes that should be removed because it varies based on each individual. And again only one of these nodes came back as having cancer in it.

Overall the pathology report was great news. Not having any additional physical tumors growing is what we wanted and not having any microscopic cells inside any others is pretty amazing.

During that visit I was also able to have my drain removed because it was well under the 30ml threshold. Let me tell you that this surgery was not as painful as the bilateral mastectomy but the drain is 500 times more painful. I’m not sure if it was because of where it was located, the amount of “digging” done on the inside of my body causing bruising, or if I am suddenly becoming a wuss, but holy heaven above did I want that thing out. One other difference from the drains after mastectomy versus ALND was that the incision where the drain is placed takes much longer to close up and heal. With the mastectomy drains I had to wait about 24 hours before I could shower and remove bandages. Today is Thursday and the incision is still not fully scabbed over allowing me to shower.

My mom took this picture about a week after my surgery so I could see where the incision was and how long it was. The puckered looking line is where they opened me up to get out all the nodes and below you can see the bandage, that is where the drain was. The stitches are on the inside and then it is glued together (the puckered skin). Plastic surgeons like to use glue to close instead of stitches to decrease the visible scars after. I guess I got lucky and my surgeon does this. I didn’t know that prior to surgery. In the grand scheme of things this body of mine is no prize. It wasn’t ever a grand showcase but God gave me it and I have tried to treat it like the temple it should be. I have accepted that whenever the end comes for me this body will probably be riddled with more scars than perfection and beauty which I am fine with. Each scar is a visible representation of me fighting to live, and living is all I care about.

Above is a picture I took this morning after I cleaned the drain incision and before I re-bandaged it. Since I did chemo my skin hates all bandages and medical tape. The red surrounding the area is just the irritation from that. You can see bruising and I don’t know why that is there, my guess is from all the digging and pulling during the surgery.

This week I also started doing the physical therapy exercises to prevent lymphadema and to help me regain my mobility back. It is depressing. I am in a full body sweat attempting to do these. Today I also went for a walk. Also depressing because I am slow. No offense to anyone out there but I feel like an 80 year old woman. Mentally I am very frustrated with part. I had just gained back almost full mobility after the mastectomies and was able exercise with 15 pound weights. It has taken a year to get back to that point. Now here I am back where I started. UGH.

Tomorrow I am meeting with my regular oncologist to finalize the treatment plan. Once I am done with that appointment I will post an update.

I love to be prepared for what is going to happen to this body. How many more scars I am going to own is a fun guessing game and to make a logical guess I scour the internet to understand exactly what is going to happen during each procedure. Since I wasn’t able to find any great pictures prior to my biopsy I thought I had better post some. Some of you are here because you are my tribe, so sorry you get to see my jacked up body. But others might be going through a similar situation as me and I pray that these might help you with what you are gong through in some small way.

The biopsy was done in the radiology office, the same room as the ultrasound to confirm that it was suspicious after the CT scan. All bandages had to be left on for 24 hours and then removed. This was how it looked after 24 hours and bandages were taken off.

After removing the steri-strips this was all that was under there, two small red dots. I think typically you would only have one red mark but we had to switch the size of the needle to a larger one because the node was so deep that the smaller needle couldn’t dig deep enough to reach it. There was visible bruising as the days progressed but nothing like the breast biopsy from last time. All in all this one was a piece of cake!

Scotty and I were ready to get this surgery under way and, fingers crossed, all the cancer out of my body. We got there on time and got prepped for surgery but much like the night before with the MRI we had a long delay. I was scheduled to go into surgery at 3:25. I actually made it into the operating room and scooted onto the table at 6:35. The approximate operating time was an hour and fifteen minutes but it took closer to three hours. There were not any complications, just needed extra time to be thorough I guess. Seems like the theme for this go round is waiting.

This time I was much calmer as I headed into surgery. Last time I was so scared I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. They eventually had to give me something to calm down. But Tuesdays I was chill. It could be that I am becoming numb to it or that God decided to help me calm down. I think it was a little of both. What helped even more was walking into the pre-op room and having this lady as my nurse!

When I saw Michelle I started to cry but I am so, so, so thankful that she was working that day. It made the waiting fun! Michelle and my kids are on the swim team together and all are around the same ages so we have become buds over the years. She was very sweet and told me that if it was weird she could reassign me to someone else but I think God knew I needed someone back there with me.

Since I was waiting so long I got to have everyone shuffle in and out to see me. If my surgery had started on time then my dad would have missed it because he went to the wrong hospital. Oh vey that man is crazy!

I ended up being the last surgery of the day for the hospital so by the time I was up every one was ready to go home. When I got into the operating room the team was pumped up and saying things like, “let’s get this show on the road so we can go home!” I looked around and said, “hey I know you all want to go home, me too, but see this hat, it’s pink because I have breast cancer and I really need you guys to take your time to get it out because this is not my first time dealing with it.” It might have killed the mood a bit but I know how important this surgery is. The nurses all said they knew that and they were going to take care of me. That was the last thing I remember till I woke up in recovery.

Waking up from the anesthetic this time I was really sick. There was no pain from the surgery but I was certain I was going to vomit. This had not happened in the past surgeries but I also would not put on the patch that is suppose to help with nausea. Last time I had that patch was when my eyes were dilating all funky and I couldn’t see (there is a blog post about it with pictures, not doing that again thank you). Also I had almost nothing to eat in 24 plus hours due to the MRI fasting and the surgery fasting. When we got home I made Scott give me one of my pills for vomiting and it kicked in before I heaved.

The doctor told Scotty and my mom that it went well. He was able to get out the cancerous nodes that were found from the scans and “a bunch more”. Hopefully we got them all. There were a few nerves that had to be damaged to get to them but not any major ones. Now we wait for me to heal and then pray that the radiation and stronger chemo treatments kill any remaining cancer cells this time.

Overall I feel okay. There is pain but it is tolerable. I also have the use of my opposite side which makes this seem like a piece of cake. I was able to give myself a partial shower so I don’t stink to high heaven in 105 degree heat. Also, I have to sleep sitting upright which means I am back to the chair. Seriously not a fan of sleeping in the chair, makes me feel helpless. I also have a drain again but that isn’t so bad because I kept all my mastectomy tank tops.

Yesterday I got back the results from the MRI and it came back clear. The doctors are pretty confident that the cancer is not anywhere else. However, I will continue to get scans now to check.

Scans done, check.

Surgery, check.

Up next radiation. I am awaiting a call from my radiation oncologist to get that appointment setup and learn more.

Now I am going to go nap.

I received my PET scan results yesterday and they are pretty good. It does not look like there are any distant metastatic locations. Hallelujah! However it does look like the cancer is in more than one lymph node. Due to that finding the doctor wants to do surgery as soon as we can get me in. Just so happens there was an opening today. So I am scheduled for surgery later this afternoon.

Details on the surgery:

The procedure should be around an hour and a half if everything goes well. We are for sure taking out all the lymph nodes. The incision will go slightly under my armpit from my foob towards my back (not sure anyone cares but in case my fellow breast sisters are reading this and wondering I want them to understand what the heck happens during a lymph node dissection) . I will come out of surgery with a drain.

It was optional to stay over night, which I declined. I mean they hacked off my breasts and I walked out of there the same day. In my head I am super tough, like an American Gladiator. I’m not but I figure fake it till you make it right, lol?! At home I have to take it easy. This means I am back to no lifting which sucks because I was finally back to my pre-cancer workouts and almost able to do a pushup NOT on my knees again. They are telling me that the pain is suppose to be manageable, fingers crossed on that one. If things go according to plan the drain comes out in two weeks, maybe three, and then radiation is up next once fully healed.

Additional updates:

Last night I was at the hospital till 11 getting an MRI done of my brain. Those just straight up suck. If you want to know why I have had a PET scan and now needed an MRI it is because of the way the two scans differ. A PET scan uses sugar to light the cancer up like the 4th of July. Sugar feeds cancer cells so they inject you with a radioactive sugar dye that then goes directly to locations that are sugar fans. Because our brains are constantly working they need a lot of energy so they gobble that sugar up as fast as the cancer cells making it hard to tell if there are any small tumors in the brain. An MRI gives a more accurate depiction of what is really happening in the brain. Since breast cancer loves to travel up there and stake a claim my doctors wanted to double check. Those results should be coming in the next few days. My doctors and I both feel like there is not going to be anything but are trying to be thorough.

People keep asking me what they can do to help and I just do not know. My sweet friends Monica and Lyndsey are putting together a meal train which is great. But I don’t know how many meals we will need right now??

This time I know what to expect. I know that surgery is the easiest part. Right now I would ask for prayers. Prayers that the doctor is able to remove all of the cancer since it is still operable. Prayers that the cancer cells decide to forget to play hide-n-seek and stay out in the open so we can find them and remove them. Prayers that I will be able to endure the discomfort that will come with another surgery. Prayers that my family and friends will feel comfort and stay calm. Prayers that I can fight this thing. So pretty much could you pray?

The next steps on this path are where it is going to be a test of my endurance and faith. Radiation is the unknown but chemo is going to be tougher. Once we hit that point I am sure I will need to rely more on friends and family, especially with the kids. It is hard to ask for help. I truly hate it. It just makes me feel weak, but I know that in the coming weeks I am going to have to ask many of you to shoulder a bit of my burden. I am lucky to have so many willing and able to help, just another blessing, but I am sorry that I have to ask for it again.

My friend Miranda and I were talking yesterday and she said something that sums up how I feel perfectly. I thought I was crossing the finish line but instead found out it had been moved back to the starting line. I’m out of breath, my muscles are fatigued, and I am mentally drained but will continue to push through the aches and pain to cross that line.

People often refer to cancer as a journey. It is not a sprint but a marathon. Unconsciously I thought this was going to be a small marathon, like a half, or better yet, a 5K. Only to find out I got signed up for the Iron Man. I’m a little more beaten down physically to start the race than the first time but I’m not giving up.

Today, the race starts again.

I don’t know how to do this so I am going to go with the approach I used last time, ripping off the band-aid.

I have cancer…..again.

If you are a little shocked reading that, good, so am I. In fact, I think I had my first ever panic attack the night I was told.

The last blog post was right before what I thought was my last targeted chemo infusion. If you read it then you know that I had a lot of apprehension about not receiving anymore treatment and also the lack of scanning in the breast cancer community. When Scotty and I arrived for the infusion they checked us in like normal but as the nurse took us back she informed us that we were actually already done with treatment and they didn’t know why the appointment had ever been made.

It was confusing to be told that we would be done on a specific day for months and then told there was a miscalculation. We thought it was best to speak to our oncologist to confirm everything with her and to find out what happened. At no point were we upset or demanding but our oncologist was not happy about being asked to speak with us. There was a big scene with her when we were finally able to get her to come out after being told she was much too busy to take a few minutes to speak with us. Scott and I were both calm but the doctor was not. This was unfortunate and continued as we tried to leave as she came out into the hallway where she continued to speak boisterously at us for interrupting her day.

The scene was inappropriate and numerous bystanders witnessed it. One of the people that was watching came up to us after the doctor had left and introduced herself as a manager within the hospital’s quality of care department. She begged us to come file a grievance because although she didn’t know any specifics, what she had witnessed needed to be documented as it was not acceptable. This lead to multiple interviews and then a phone call the following week from the manager of the Oncology Department. During that interview my husband said we were questioning the treatment plan that I had been given and had lost trust in their care. The manager asked him how they could repair the relationship because we have 10 years of monitoring and want to have a good relationship. Scott responded that we should give me a scan to confirm that what they had done had actually worked and there was no cancer present in my body. So, a scan was ordered.

The incident that took place was terrible but without it I would not have been able to have a scan unless I became symptomatic. The truth is if I had to wait till that I would have probably died before getting it, especially with how aggressive my own cancer is. Sometimes the things we think are not blessings actually are. I think this is one of them.

On May 31st I went in and had a CT scan from my neck to my pelvis. That afternoon I got a call explaining that it showed an enlarged lymph node on my cancer side and standard protocol was to have it biopsied. They were able to get me in for the ultrasound and biopsy on Tuesday, June 4th. The following day I got a call confirming that it was breast cancer that had metastasized to the node. Yesterday Scott and I went to see the surgeon, a new one because my last surgeon is out having a surgery of her own. This is what we know so far:

1. The doctor’s aren’t sure if cancer returned or resisted the chemo and targeted treatments, either way it is not good news.

2. The cancer is still HER2+ also not good news because the wonder drug herceptin my cancer is immune to.

3. It is considered metastatic because it grew and spread outside of original cancer site.

4. The tumor or size of the lymph node is twice the size of the biggest tumor I had with initial diagnosis.

5. Saturday I will have a PET scan of my entire body to confirm if there is any distance metastatic disease, hopefully results are in by Monday.

6. Monday I will have an MRI of my brain. PET scans are not good indicators of disease in the brain which is why this is also needed.

7. Surgery will be scheduled for some time this week and will remove 35-40 lymph nodes from the left side armpit. There’s a pretty good chance I can lose more mobility in that arm and have lymphdema (swelling of the arm).

8. All treatment moving forward will be more aggressive with both radiation and chemo, both will be needed, for another year or longer.

9. We will be meeting with the Head Breast Cancer Oncologist for Northern California in the coming weeks to make sure that we are doing the right treatment to try to stop the cancer from spreading further.

Hopefully in the coming days we will get a few more answers and I will do my best to get on here to update it. I’ve had to curl inside myself the last few weeks to wrap my head and my heart around this.

I am unbearably sad. I don’t know if I have ever experienced a pain this deep. It literally takes my breath away. There is an undeniable longing in me to live on this Earth and see my children grow, to hold Scott tight to me. and grow old together. I am very frightened that I may not get to do that.

I am not giving up, I will fight this again, and every day that the Lord allows me to have, but I also know that I must be realistic. Every thing about cancer I have defied. I’m not the right age, I don’t eat an unhealthy diet, I exercise, I am not overly stressed ( well now I am). But I got cancer. Then I got one of the less common types, only 20% of all diagnosis are HER2+ only. I do treatment for a year with a drug that all the statistics shows is effective at attacking the HER2+ cells only to find out my cancer is more aggressive than most. Now with the recurrence so soon and outside of the original location each doctor is baffled by it and explains it is not common to see and there is a lack of research on what to do in this situation. One research study I found in a journal of medicine from Canada suggested it only happens in about 1% of recurrence cases. What that all means is I am beating the odds in the worst way.

Right now I have no idea how I am going to do this. I’ve switched my fruits, veggies, and meats to organic. I drink that ridiculous PH balanced water. I try to limit any unnecessary sugars. In the last year I have only skipped a workout a handful of times and only because I was medically unable to exercise. I don’t know what else I can change to make this cancer want to get the hell out of me. But, I will keep trying.

This is also not just about me but my family. The first time was rough, this is going to be even worse. Scott and I are trying very hard to be as open and honest with the kids as we can. That alone is a gut wrenching experience. We have told them that it is okay to be sad and cry, to talk to our family or friends if it helps them, and to ask us any questions that they want. The past few days have been really hard. If you are near us please be gentle with Scott and my kids. It feels as if I had to rip the scab off a healing wound.

If there is anything that I could ask it would be to give comfort to those around me. When someone gets cancer the entire family gets cancer. I know that they feel helpless and are going to need more comfort and love than me because they are constantly lifting me up. Please don’t contact them to get information, come to the blog, I will keep it up to date as soon as I know new information.

I might be sad when you see me and a little more quiet than usual. There may be moments that I cry for no reason. I may have to hug your children when they are around me because they bring me such incredible joy. I want to be surrounded by life and happiness. So many of you that will be reading this provide me and my family with that. I know I didn’t do this but I am sorry that so many people around me are going to feel discomfort, and so many children will have to know about this disease and the immense pain that it can bring. I wish it was different, but wishes don’t all come true.

As I pray for the ability to understand the path that is in front of me and the strength to overcome, I also ask for those around me to be comforted. It takes a village and mine is filled with exceptional men, women, and children. I am grateful to have each of you in my life. I know that what awaits me in the coming days, weeks, and months will be harder than what lays behind me. I will say that I am ready, scared beyond belief, but ready.

So, here we go again.

Today is officially my last targeted chemotherapy treatment. I should be overjoyed. I should be relieved. I should be asleep. Yet, I am none of those things…if only our minds had a shutoff switch.

Everyone is beyond excited for me to be at this point. They want to throw a party and I just want to throw up. To them it is exciting, I’m done, Yippee!!! To me it is the realization that I am back to being on my own. I was on my own before and I couldn’t fight this thing once it woke up, so how in the hell am I suppose to attack it if it comes back again?

The emotions and anxiety that are inside me are making me sick to my stomach. Rationally I know that my chances are good, that I will only fight this disease once based on research studies. However, based on research studies I was never a candidate to get cancer, so there is that. I think once you get cancer you are allowed to have a few irrational thoughts, and today, I am having some.

I can admit that I am scared. I am afraid this might not be the end but a brief intermission. At the beginning of this I referred to breast cancer as a journey, and it has been one. Back then I think I thought it would have a very clear beginning, middle, and end. What I now know is that the only thing obvious with cancer is the beginning and after that nothing is obvious. A year ago I thought this day would never come, now that it is, I wish it was still further in the future.

With each day I get one step closer to being finished with active treatment for HER2+ breast cancer. This should feel like an accomplishment, a crossing of the finish line so to speak. Instead it feels a bit like jumping off a cliff into waters that are unknown and a bottom that can’t be seen. I am just as terrified at the end as I was at the beginning of this journey.

I never understood, in full capacity, what cancer really was. The disease I understood but the emotional and physical breakdown that is a part of it was unimaginable. It has made me very frustrated at “normal” people. Everything I hear makes me want to yell at them, “at least you don’t have cancer!”. I mean move it along people life can be so much worse than you ever imagined! But recently I have had a bit of a reality smack to remind me that we do not know what is going on in other people’s lives.

In our society there is a need to complain. I feel like it has become an acceptable way of bragging. For example; we tell someone how we are so tired because we got a promotion at work and now have to put in longer hours. To me it seems like the small stuff is what gets complained about and big meaty things that we probably need to talk about are what we keep hidden inside ourselves.

During high school a boy committed suicide my senior year. I was already a Peer Counselor but because of this I was sent to get more training and became certified as a suicide intervention counselor. When I went away to college I continued to work for a suicide intervention group that was close to the campus. Though it was a difficult job it was something that eventually led me into the field of communication. I learned how important words are, the unsaid feelings associated with them, and the immense damage that can be done because of them.

For the past year I have been so focused on myself that I have ignored how extremely hard life is without adding on a disease. It is tough growing up and existing in a world that thrives on social media that at its center is a popularity contest for the entire world to see and take part in. No matter how many anti-bullying campaigns are launched there are still people that feel left out, excluded, and insignificant. In a world where beauty is no longer in the eye of the beholder but in the number of likes you have received our self esteem is directly correlated. If we are smart enough to stay off of social media when feeling depressed we find out that “the real world” is more often than not hiding just as many people ready to let us know what flaws we have.

Everything comes back to the unknown.

I guess it is a good reminder that we do not know what people are going through. That there is an abundance of unknown in this world and in this sticky thing we call life. Yesterday someone posted on facebook this image.

I don’t know where they got it from and I actually am not a big fan of celebrities because they are very rarely good examples for my kids but I do think that this is a good truth to see. People put on a good face. They laugh through their pain. They smile through their tears. Most times it takes one person to reach out and show that they care. It takes one person to show kindness. If we can embrace the unknown and remember that even though our own unknown might be terrifying, the person next to us might be going through something just as hard.

Looking back at this year I know that I could never have made it without my family and friends. I talk a lot about Scotty, my kids, and my parents but it is my siblings and their own kids that have helped me too. I want so desperately to have this life and to experience every part of it with all my family. I want to hear my nephew play his trumpet in another parade and I long to sit in the audience of a packed house and let the sound of a cello or piano wrap around me from my niece. I find more joy in sitting and watching my kids play with their cousins than I ever thought was possible. And I find myself smiling when I sit at the table to do my work as my children and their friends giggle from the other room.

I know that life is hard and that we have very little control of so many parts of it. But we do have control on how we behave. I just wish that everyone from babies to grandparents could find the beauty that exists in each and every one of us. Life is so precious, and, it is meant to be lived.

I'm late actually getting to this post since my infusion was over a week ago. No excuses, I didn’t have the mental energy to sit down and do it. My youngest is sick with some nasty sinus infection that has spread to her throat. So instead of resting and posting the blog I sat in the doctor office and pharmacy, made her favorite vegetable soup from scratch, and spent a bunch of time with her laying on top of me on the couch. That is not a complaint, I embrace the chaos of every day life, in fact I cherish it. Nothing like cancer to make you long for more days hearing your kids whine!

Round 17 was pretty routine. Scotty has decided to make it to the last few rounds of treatment. As he told me he has started this thing with me and he will end it with me. God found me the most perfect man for me and I am grateful.

I think he wears the same shirt every time….

You can’t see in the picture that well but I am finally beginning to have eyelashes begin to grow back and stay. I have missed them so very much! Each morning I spend a solid minute just starring at my eyes and thinking how lovely they look with eyelashes. Eyelashes make a person look less sick, who knew?! The odd red ring around my eyes and pallor of my skin seem nonexistent all because of a sprouting of eyelashes!

My hair has lost its mind. Nothing is keeping it down any longer, not even my son’s gorilla snot that had been working. I actually might have to buy the type of gel that people use to keep their mohawks up.

So the fun stuff. My nose is still dripping, my feet hurt about 300 times worse than when I started just the targeted chemo in November, there is no change in the amount of diarrhea and stomach aches, and my nails are so painful from cracking that they bring tears to my eyes some days. All in all not bad for only needing one more infusion!

As a woman that prides herself on loving education and all things based on facts, I have begun to question how statistics are really determined. I have take courses in statistics at both the undergrad and graduate level, so I feel like I have a good handle on them. Yet for me when looking at statistics and cancer the numbers don’t seem to add up.

With the targeted chemotherapy treatment Herceptin patients need to have their heart monitored for possible heart damage. Up to this point my echo cardiograms have all been okay (hopefully the one today will be no different, fingers crossed). As I sat in the waiting room for the tech to get me staring at me across the way was this sign…

For almost a year I have sat across from it waiting to have my echos, but today I got more and more frustrated as I sat there, it’s statistic mocking me from across the room.

I am so tired of everyone on Earth telling me that I need to eat healthy and be active. I am. Newsflash, I was before cancer decided to have a party in my breast! My being active and eating healthy sure didn’t prevent cancer from turning on inside me. It just makes me wonder if I wasn’t healthy and active before getting cancer would I have got it sooner? Would it have grown faster that it already was?

This week I have had three friends pass away from cancer. Essentially the three had very little in common; they had different types of cancer (also none started at stage IV which freaks me out), they ranged in age from early 50’s to late 70’s, two men and one woman. Yet one thing was true about all three; they ate healthy and exercised. If I am going to be truthful I have yet to meet anyone that is overweight that has cancer.

Susan G. Koman states that only 5% of all breast cancer diagnosis in the United States are women under 40. It is a hard pill to swallow when you start to look at all the data collected and feel like the numbers should add up to you never getting cancer, but then you do. I really just want to understand what caused it. For me it was not eating unhealthy processed foods, lack of exercise, genetic mutations, or old age, but it was something. I hope that one day there will be no need for these stupid statistics. All it proves is that there are deviations to the rule and I am unfortunately one them.

The older I get the more four letters I put into the “bad word” file. Today I am adding FEAR to the file. Even though the past year I have had to deal with fear straight on, I am beginning to realize that there is no amount of wisdom or age that decreases the level of fear that uncertainty in life brings.

Over the last few months I have watched two of my parents very close friends go through some pretty challenging events. They are older than me and often times we think that age brings wisdom. If you asked me today I would suggest that age has nothing to do with it, but experiences, that is where all wisdom begins to grow.

For one of these couples they have been dealing with health issues off and on for a few years but the end has come faster than they thought. There comes a point where medicine and science can only do so much and the human spirit begins to break down at the effort it takes to go on. It is never just the person with the disease that suffers, but perhaps, the person left alone at the end. They have to determine how to move forward when the end comes. They have to decide what life is going to be without that loved one. The fear in the fate of the future is sometimes larger than sky above.

The other couple had no advance warnings to prepare themselves for a sudden health concern that will consume their lives for the duration of it. Together they will have to completely change lifestyles and eating habits to help ensure that they can ave the life they had hoped for. Although they will most likely get the chance to do this together there is fear in the struggle that sits in front of them.

Watching these two couples wade through the waters that continue to throw rough surf and high tide at them when they want to lounge on the beach and bask in the sun makes me wonder if everything that has happened to me hasn’t somehow brought me more strength in the face of fear? At 37 who really questions not living long enough to watch their babies grow up? To see them graduate from kindergarten, grade school, high school, and college? I always planned to be at their weddings, births of babies, and celebrations of new adventures. In my mind there was no doubt that my husband and I would continue as we always had as a team that was focused on the future, our children, and each other. I knew I would see him gray and old and myself reflected in his eyes. Yet over the past year I have had to come to terms with the fact that this is not always the case.

Some of us get a lifetime with the family that we have created on this Earth while others get a quick breath of togetherness. Why? What makes one person’s life here so short while others get decades? It is frustrating to me that I can’t answer that question and in turn makes me frustrated with God. At the end of the day the fear of what may come is constant.

There are days that I feel no fear. Where I forget that cancer is a part of my life now. I will look at my kids playing and be overwhelmed by love for them and the moments I get to share them. I will see Scott walk in a room and feel my heart beat faster. I cherish these moments, and in them, I feel like my life will go on as I always thought it would...until I am old and gray. But there are days when fear sits at the forefront of my mind. Where I hide in the closet to calm down and wipe away tears so my children don’t take on this same fear in themselves. I have a desperateness inside me to never ever let this cancer grow again and realize that I have no control of it.

I am realizing more and more that our story is not always up to us to write. In my desperation there is also an overwhelming desire to just live in the moment. Each time I feel fearful I try to do something to center me again. Most days it is simply to reconnect with my husband and children. I find myself needing to touch them more. That small act helps me remember that I am alive and fortunate to be there with them because I know that not everyone has that opportunity.

I’ve been up since 1:36 from the nausea. Could I have stayed in bed? Probably, but Scott rolled over and I smelled his morning breath which sent me running to the bathroom. Reminds me of morning sickness again. Thankfully I didn’t vomit and rewarded myself with a cup of coffee after about an hour. Now I am sitting in the family room listening to the quiet of my house with intermittent talking from Brody in his sleep.

Friday was round 16 and it went well. Scotty surprised me and came with me. These days this is as close to a date night as we get so it was a fun treat. I also got one of my favorite nurses which felt like a good sign. There was no painful IV situation, no unnecessary bleeding, and Scott had me laughing almost the entire time.

My sweet friend Kim left me a package on my door the other day and inside was a shirt she had made for me with the logo I designed for the website. It was unexpected and so thoughtful, just like her! Before I made it into the infusion room I had three compliments on the shirt and got to tell people about the website and what I eventually hope to grow it into. Thanks again Kimmy!

We also did blood work before the infusion to try and figure out why I am getting nose bleeds, extra bleeding from the port, and my overall exhaustion (because as my ONC loves to point out it is not normal on just the targeted chemo). I got my results by Friday night and basically I am just worn down again. My numbers aren’t in the “bad” range but they are all at the lowest end of the spectrum. It isn’t something to be concerned about with only two more infusions to go at this point.

As much as I have read, and even said myself about herceptin being a wonder drug, I don’t love it. Or maybe what I should say is my body doesn’t love it. Thankfully I did find another group to join that is just for HER2 breast cancer and the woman that runs it is amazing. She is a healthcare professional and also has stage IV HER2+ breast cancer. I wish I had found her sooner. All the side effects and symptoms that my ONC suggests are abnormal or rare I have come to find out aren’t. The nausea and insane diarrhea affects most of those on targeted chemo treatments. The joint pain that makes me feel like an old lady, yeah that is normal on this too. Remember those red toes I could never get an explanation for? Yeah from the herceptin. I am a bit flabbergasted that I went through six rounds of chemotherapy with very limited side effects beyond hair loss but the treatment suggested to be easier has tore me up!

One more down, two more to go.