chemo 12 - DONE

When I first learned my chemo regimen I was overwhelmed to say the least. I pictured my future self and tried to imagine what it would feel like to make it through 12 consecutive weeks of chemo. I’ll be honest - it wasn’t this feeling. I thought I’d feel more empowered. Stronger. Somehow feel a little safer in my body. But all of the breasties who have done this before me are right - it’s fucking hard.

During the infusion, when the pump beeps, the nurse comes over and squeezes out every last drop of the poison. You’d think that would feel a little unnecessary -“oh no, I don’t want more, let’s leave that behind” but honestly, it’s comforting. On Monday, when the nurse took down the Taxol bag after squeezing out every last drop and hung the Carbo bag I started to get anxious. I couldn’t help but think “wait, we know this works, why are we stopping it?” The last 30 minutes of Carbo I held back tears. The next phase is scary. We know this works. Coming here weekly has shrunk my tumor. We know Carbo + Taxol hasn’t totally ravaged my body. Why would we stop and switch when this tumor hoe is still in here? But, I have to trust my team. And be patient in understanding what this next phase will bring. Trust and patience are two things I do not carry a lot of. And no, cancer isn’t bringing me some huge life lesson - in fact, I’m pretty convinced I’ll come out of this less trusting and a hell of a lot less patient that I was before.

I do feel stronger - but in a different way than I imagined. I’m impressed with my body. I’ve been everything but nice to this body in these 33 years. I’ve hated her for not being the size I think it should be. I’ve punished it in ways it didn’t deserve and yet it kept me going. I’ve totally taken advantage of my health. And yet, it has handled weekly poisons like a champ! Yes, I’ve had side effects. And when I add them all up - it’s been rougher than I communicated over these 12 weeks. But, I’ve still gotten to live my best life and there have been more good than bad days.

I would be amiss to not mention the many many amazing humans who have gotten me through this. My mom for one - is a saint. She’s brought me to pretty much every single chemo even though they don’t let her back. I will never fully know how emotionally damaging it must be to see your daughter go through this but she never puts that on me.

My people were thrown into this cancer world. Some have really close experiences with family members. Most have no idea how to support a friend going through chemo. Somehow, they have more than risen to the occasion.

Last week I sat in on a virtual support group for TNBC breasties. I listened to the struggles these strong women are facing in addition to their cancer. Personal relationships that are causing additional stress. And mainly because people just don’t know how to deal with this world. Not a single person in my life has added stress and I’m so thankful I’ve surrounded myself with amazing people before all of this hit.

I am thankful every second of every day for each and every person in my life. You all make my life easier, fill my days with joy, and allow me to continue to be me. I cry every time I think of the time you have all taken out of your day to source goodies for my chemo bag each and every week. Without fail you all make me feel so damn loved. Also, is there another word for thankful because it doesn’t feel like enough.

On Monday, after my final Phase I chemo, I gathered my friends for a little happy hour to acknowledge this long path they got me through. They didn’t let me down! My mom and niece got me the best badass balloons. We ate and drank and caught up - it was the best way to end a day I thought would be easy but instead was pretty fear filled.

But, in the most fateful of ways - one table over was a woman with TNBC celebrating the end of radiation. Her hair was gorgeous. She did it. The end of the road is that last radiation and there are days I am not sure I’ll make it there. But, meeting her gave me so much hope.

Off to the Red Devil. I have high hopes and no expectations. It is expected to “knock me in my teeth” as my surgeon, Cliff said. I also already expect some anxiety about going to a schedule of every 3 weeks instead of weekly. But, going in to Monday I do know this - even on the scariest days, the hardest nights, and the most anxious feelings I have my phenomenal friends, family, and Xanax so I’ll make it through.

<DISCLAIMER - A lot of very important people are not pictured>