...and tomorrow is chemo day...

I'm coming to the end of my chemo days. I am not sure how many more I have but tomorrow is one more adventure in the land of breast cancer. I am not quite as nervous or anxious as I usually am. I think that's because I've been so busy at work, and then busy when I get home that I'm sort of exhausted. Too tired to worry.

Awhile back, someone commented that breast cancer was the best thing that happened to her life. I found that thought to be...well...ridiculous. But as I contemplate the days ahead, I am starting to understand a little bit better how this journey can make you see life in a brand new way. I won't go as far as to say that having breast cancer has been the best thing ever. (laughs) But I will admit that the challenge of this illness has forced me to become strong and confident in ways that I was not sure I was capable of a year ago.

I think of my early days with this disease quite a bit now. I find myself talking to other women who have recently been diagnosed with breast cancer a lot. Since I have started this blog, I have become a magnet for other sisters struggling with finding their way through this maddening maze of breast cancer. Each time I talk to one of my new pink ribbon sisters, I relive my early days of treatment and try to explain to them how I felt, what I went through and what they can expect from their treatment in the coming days. I purposely take myself back down that emotional rabbit hole, so that I connect with them in a way that resonates with the fear and anxiety that they feel. Each time, each sister... I virtually take their hand and walk beside them for a few steps so that I can feel what they feel in order to get them to see what I see now. That where they are today is not where they are meant to stay.

I am certainly no medical expert on breast cancer. I am one victim who is struggling to be triumphant in the end, like so many others before me. I am only an expert in how I felt, what I did and how I managed to keep moving forward even when I wasn't even sure I was making progress at all.

Battling breast cancer has given me ample opportunities to examine myself, my life and to really stop and consider where I am going and what I have to contribute to this world. When you find yourself faced with your own mortality, you shift your priorities pretty quickly. (laughs) I am guessing that I only have 1 maybe 2 more rounds of herceptin chemotherapy and then I'll be back into the real world again. I am guessing that I will feel some sort of separation anxiety from leaving my safe cocoon of regular visits to the cancer center. But even though I imagine the next few weeks/months to be interesting emotionally... I know that it is truly time for me to move on and claim my new presence in this world.

As I really think about dating again, and I think about the possibilities of this life... I realize that even if my time is shorter than I had ever hoped or imagined, that's no excuse not to enjoy every moment and wring all of the possibilities out of it that I can manage with the time that I have.

I want to love again. I really do. The idea of being vulnerable, though, is scary. But, I ask myself what is the alternative and I realize that the possibility of connecting with someone good, kind and decent really doesn't have a downside.  I read another pink ribbon sister's blog the other day and her post was a mini-rant about the possibilities of dating as a breast cancer patient. Her words echoed a sentiment that I have felt myself -- who wants to date the cancer-girl? She went on to discuss her concerns about having one breast and dealing with all of these treatments and appointments and wondered -- much like I have over the past year -- what guy would willingly sign up for this side of life?

The truth is...a good guy would. The right guy will. She and I just have to have faith and believe that it is possible. Because it really is possible. Honestly, I am afraid of being in love because it makes me vulnerable to being hurt again. But the alternative is to live a life without love, without intimacy, without companionship. Eek! Don't want that. So, I'll open my heart and take a chance and hopefully the good things that I experience will outweigh any possible negatives. The truth is that without breast cancer, I would still feel the same hesitation about dating and love possibilities.

I want to be focused on something other than my health. I want to keep travelling, laughing and enjoying the joys of this world. There are so many things that I still want to do. Maybe that's why tonight my anxiety about chemotherapy is lower than usual. Instead of worrying about what may happen when I get to the cancer center in a few hours...I'm thinking about the weekend. Thinking forward to my trip to Las Vegas in a couple of weeks... Thinking about the giggles and joy I will feel on Friday when the work week is over.

After all that goodness... being anxious about having a 2 inch needle stuck in my chest for a couple of hours is low on the priority list. Its not like I haven't handled it before. (laughs)

the last day at the cancer center...

Today was one patient's last treatment at the cancer center. Her last chemo drip. I didn't actually meet her but her name is Rachel. Seems that she and the guy sitting next to me built a fun camraderie during their treatments. They would "race" to see who could finish their chemo drips first. I think the race tickled the nurses more than it gave those two cancer patients something to look forward to.

I had to admit, as an outsider to their competition, it looked like fun. It was especially fun for me considering, I finished before both of them. (smile)

Rachel had her husband with her and Brian (my neighbor) had his mom with him. And I was alone. It has not bothered me for a long time to sit in chemo alone but today, I felt like I was missing something. But what really made me envious of Rachel was that she had CUPCAKES delivered to her today. Georgetown Cupcakes.

It was lovely. And quite funny because I had just mentioned to my neighbors that I was overdue for having cupcakes with my chemo. But it got me to thinking about my last day of chemo. I mean the last, last, LAST day. When there's no more herceptin, no more shots... nothing. Just follow-up visits every 6 months.

What's that day gonna be like? I think I may follow Rachel's pattern and have some yummy cupcakes delivered. But I'm not sure.

Watching my neighbor deal with his chemo was really difficult. He has lymphoma and it seems like he has had a rough road with it. Difficulty being diagnosed, delayed port implantation (he didn't get a port until they could no longer find his veins), trouble with the actual chemo drugs, no tastebuds...and on and on. His anxiety started from the moment he walked into the cancer center and from what I could tell, it was going to be a bumpy two weeks until he came back for his next (and his last) chemo drip.

It was so hard. He was a really nice guy and very friendly. The staff seemed to love him. Rachel and her husband seemed to have created a strong bond with him and his mom. But he was really in pain. Emotional and physical pain. And even though I was sitting right beside him with drugs going into my body the same way -- and for the same reason -- for some reason, I felt sadder for him than I did for myself. How is that even possible?

I felt badly for him. I was envious of Rachel. And I was perplexed because I know that the transition from going to the cancer center regularly to not going at all is going to be traumatic. The cancer center has become like a sanctuary for me. Its a safe place. Its the one place where I know that something is being done to help me get rid of this threat to my life. And I realized that its the one place where I don't worry about my cancer. I know its crazy but its true. I can turn over the worry to other people for the few hours that I'm at the cancer center. I can relax and be at peace...

I will be thinking of ways to ease myself into and through the transition. I expect it to be difficult but I have been through difficult things and come out okay. But I do think that cupcakes will be a part of that special celebration.

I may get some cupcakes this week... just to make myself smile a little and remember that its the little things that make life so sparkly and wonderful.

mmmm.... cupcakes. :)

how a pedicure reminded me that i'm making it over...

Remember that old gospel song..."how I got over"? That's on my mind today because my soul is looking back and wondering how I got over.

I got a pedicure last night. I went to a place I had not been to since before my diagnosis (I swore them off after an episode where I felt cheated). But I have always liked their work and feel that the environment is clean and sanitary, as well as comfortable and calming. It was nice. More than ever, I am particularly picky about the environments where I receive services for my body.

When I sat in the chair, I explained to the technician that when he removed the nail polish currently on my toes, he would notice that my nails were discolored but it was okay. I also explained to him that I was in treatment for cancer and that he needed to be extra careful about clipping and scrubbing my feet. No breaks in the skin because I cannot get any infections. Some nail salons are not diligent about the way that they handle their clients. And some people leave nail salons with nasty infections. That is not acceptable or tolerable for me. I have to guard my safety in every situation now.

He listened and he was very gentle. But when he removed the gaudy design that was on my big toes -- the look of shock on his face (and the lady sitting next to me) was in direct opposition to the smile that slowly grew on mine. They were stunned that my toes were so black. BUT... (praise God)... the discoloration is receding.

It was a beautiful sight to me. True to my oncologist's warnings, the chemotherapy wrecked havoc on my nails, my skin and my hair. My fingernails went black very quickly and started falling off shortly after. You remember those posts about the bleeding nail beds and all that misery? I was told that my toes would do the same. And they did discolor, turned an awful shade of purple and black. But they never fell off. Which I was grateful for because I've lost toenails in the past and it is NOT FUN at all. (and its yucky to look at)

But my pedicure last night gave me an opportunity to be a witness to my own progress. I have only 3 toes that are discolored. At one time it was 9. One of the three is only ever so slightly discolored at the tip. The other two toes have a broader band of the discoloration across them -- but the base of the nail is clear and blemish free.

That soothes my spirit like a cool breeze on a hot day. You just don't know. (smile)

Clear nails are a sign of good health. I have learned that during this journey. I always took my clear nailbeds for granted. I assumed that everyone had them, and wasn't aware that your nails could be anything else. Now I know better. Your nails are a barometer for your health which is why doctors look at your hands when they examine you. To get an idea of what (if any) deficiencies you may have.


My toes are hot pink now... with a multi-colored design on the two that are most discolored. Sooooo... very cute.

But also so very much a blessing.

(crying) It is so wonderful to realize that this journey that has taken such a hard toll on my body and my spirit.... has not taken so much that I cannot bounce back.

My hands look so normal now. My nails are clear and strong. No discoloration, no bleeding, no peeling nails. My eyebrows are thick again, though one is thicker than the other. But they are almost back to normal as well. My hair is growing... its really curly, and sort of cute, but there is hair up there. And its a beautiful thing. My friends are laughing at me now because I have more hair now than I did before cancer because I used to keep my hair cut very low. I plan to let this mop grow as long as it can. I am learning to take very good care of my hair and I'm treating it (and myself) as gently as I can.

Even my skin is rebounding. Its still pretty dry but I make sure to slather my moisturizers and lotions on all the time. My radiation scar is lightening up (not fast enough for my nerves) so I'm still applying my bio-oil every day and my aquaphor and my other cream to the area all the time. I want that big square shadow GONE from my chest, immediately.

The lady sitting next to me last night getting her pedicure felt sorry for me when she heard that I had cancer. She asked me how I was doing and said that it was so sad that I was going through all of that. I agreed that it had been a sad experience... but its a year later ...

AND I'M STILL HERE.

So, its okay. God is good to me. Even though the progress is happening in small increments, sometimes so small that I don't notice, it is happening. It is happening. My body will never be the same, that much is true. But, my body is healing slowly... all the way down to my little toes. And I couldn't be happier about it.

A year from now, you may not be able to tell by looking at me that there ever was an issue with me. I think I'm starting to understand how that sister felt at the Cancer Gala when she expressed how much cancer had given her. This isn't the journey I would have picked for myself, or any of my friends or family. But I cannot ignore the lessons that it is providing me. Love, compassion, empathy, courage, resilience, humility, responsibility, trust and resolve. Just a few of the things that I'm learning so far.

I'm sure there's more to come.

let's talk about cancer and money

As I type this, laying flat on my back with a heat pack on my neck/back... I am thinking about all the other devastating ways that cancer ruins lives. I just read a financial blog posting about bankruptcy   and cancer and it forced me to think.

Its not enough to have a disease that could kill you, and its not enough to have treatments for the disease that make you feel like you're dying... cancer rips apart relationships by putting more strain on them than they can handle. Cancer also wrecks your financial future because the cost of treatment is enormous. If you're fortunate enough to have insurance through your job, the hit may be minimal. If you're not so lucky, or if you have to supplement your insurance with state/federal assistance... not only will you have to suck up your pride and grow some patience to get through the madness... you will be stuck with huge HUGE medical bills.

The number 1 reason for bankruptcy in this country is CANCER-related medical bills. At my last chemotherapy session, there was a gentleman sitting beside me who was paying for his treatment himself. I overheard the administrator talking to him about it when he asked how much his treatment cost for that day. I nearly fainted when she said that the total was over $16,000! For one day of treatment, almost twenty thousand dollars. Keeping in mind, depending on your cancer treatment you may need anywhere from 4 infusions to 20. Can you imagine? He asked about discounts for different things but he didn't qualify for any reduced prices because he wasn't using insurance. While insurance is helpful for all of us with it, insurance pays a reduced rate for the procedures, medications and treatments. For example, my chemotherapy infusions cost my insurance company $5000 each treatment. (just the infusion) Whereas this gentleman was going to pay triple that amount. Assuming that we were receiving similar treatments (from a financial perspective)... that's a drastic difference.

I don't know how they (the man and his wife) paid. He seemed stoic and calm when the administrator was talking to him. The wife seemed much more nervous. I wasn't involved and I wanted to cry.

And that's just treatment. The other things that people don't tell you about is that once you find out that you have cancer, you need to change your entire life basically. What you eat, what you drink, what you bathe with... what lotions you use, what you use on your teeth... depending on where your cancer is... your clothing is different, maybe your teeth are affected and so on. EVERYTHING is different after the day you learn that you have cancer.

I'm going to talk about something really "silly" but important for me. Bras. As many of you know, before cancer I was spending a small fortune on my lingerie because my breasts were much larger than average. And since I'm a girl who fully appreciates and expects luxury... I bought the best and prettiest lingerie I could find in my size. That meant that while many sisters were scooping up deals at Victoria Secret's for $20 or less for a bra, Nicole was spending $100+ for one bra. I bitched and moaned about it to myself but it was my reality so I accepted it.

Fast forward to now. I can't wear the bras I used to wear. Not because of the size - I have a prosthesis that I could put into the regular bra to wear. But because of the underwire. Bras created for larger-breasted women almost always have underwire in them to provide support. I've been told that there are bras for larger breasts without underwire - though honestly, I haven't seen any yet.

I cannot wear underwire because its too constricting for my chest. Since the surgery, some of my chest area is numb. Underwire could rub, chafe and eventually cut my skin in my breast area because the skin there is still very fragile and sensitive. And numb. So I wouldn't feel the destruction taking place. My doctors -- each of them -- have warned me repeatedly not to wear underwire bras. So, I have beautiful lacy items that I may never get to use again. Waste of money. And int he meantime, I need to find new items to wear that fit well and appeal to my sense of style.

Drama. Its not just finding bras and then paying whatever price they cost just to have them. Its finding a massage therapist who knows how to work with cancer patients to assist in helping me to get my body back. Its finding a physical therapist to work with, to get my range of motion back. Its keeping lots of suncreen (spf 70) and bug spray around to protect my skin. Suncreen to protect my very fragile skin. And bug spray because the slightest infection in the arm that was affected by my surgery could trigger lymphodema.

And it goes on and on.

Yesterday I talked about my back pain and how its driving me crazy. It is. And I continue to push myself because I want as much of my life back as I can get. I hung out yesterday and am paying for it today. I knew when I decided to hang out that I was making a choice but I needed the time I spent with my friends, so I hoped that my back wouldn't protest too much.

Eh. Its hurting something serious today but I will force myself to get moving soon. I just want to feel like it won't get really worse today.

But all of that to say... it costs to be sick. Beyond the active treatment of your disease, there are considerations about your lifestyle that you have to consider.

So... when you talk to someone that you know is dealing with an illness, if you're in a position to help them -- buy a cup of coffee, or something like that -- pass that kindness along. Although we're all feeling the pinch in this recession, the pinch isn't the same for everyone.

I've been reading and researching diet changes and I don't know how I will afford to eat the way that so many people believe is best to keep my chances of cancer recurrence low. Whole foods, organic produce, etc. cost a lot of money. Juicing daily, though good for you, gets expensive. The herbal supplements and such... are not cheap. But it is a balancing act, where somethings go up in the budget, other things will have to come down. And some dreams may have to be washed away.

I haven't figured out what I will leave behind in order to make these other things happen. But something will. It has to. I am single with no children. I've read horror stories about women with breast cancer whose husbands left, leaving them alone, sick, scared and broke trying to raise healthy kids in the meantime. Some women have lost their homes, trying to be treated for breast cancer. I know that I've been bitter and angry about my relationship ending... but I do feel blessed that at least we weren't married and then broke up. As much as my heart has been broken, my finances were not affected by the dissolution of the relationship. Not to be callous, but that's a huge relief - I'm sure for both of us.

Thinking about planning for retirement while paying medical bills and adjusting to higher living costs... is where my head is right now. Having fun, squeezing it in when and where I can, is priority for me right now. When I close my eyes and think about the ways that my life is different today from a year ago, there is still a lot of anger there. But its not as much as was there 6 months ago. And 6 months from now, I pray that it will be even less.

It is a good day. :)

Well... another night before chemo

Tonight is the night before my last taxol infusion. I'm excited about the last chemo (well sort of, I'll still be getting regular herceptin treatments) and I'm also freaked out. The last chemo means that in a couple of weeks, God willing, I'll be going into surgery to have my cancer removed. I keep trying to tell myself that losing my breast is secondary to getting rid of the cancer... but its not working. I keep thinking (and overthinking) about losing my breast and having a "fake" one put in its place.

I don't know how other folks handle this, or how any of you would handle this if you were me... but I feel like I'm a total and complete mess. I have cried so much this week -- I've been unable to take or return phone calls. Honestly, between you and me... this is hard. I thought that I would be feeling so much better about this by now. We're close to halfway through this thing. I have gotten comfortable with the language of cancer; how to broach the topic with strangers and old friends (not that I'm handling that all that well either); how to cope with the various and many physical changes/side effects that I go through every week... But I have not gotten comfortable with the notion of losing my breast. I'm just as angry about it now as I was back in August when I was told it was best that I have the mastectomy.

I pushed for a lumpectomy but its a no-go. I tried to be cool with that. I realize that my cancer is positioned in a way that saving my breast is not possible. I have tried to be cool with that. But now... its close to 2/3 weeks away and I'm realizing that I'm still not cool with losing a part of me.

Women undergo plastic surgery every day, willingly and at great cost to improve their looks. Women undergo plastic surgery every day, willingly and at great cost to correct a medical problem. Why can't I program my mind and my emotions... to willingly accept that this is necessary for my life? I feel like I'm being punished and I can't figure out what I've done wrong.

Keep me in your prayers... please. Its been a hard, hard week.

~Nic

Feeling okay so far... after #2

So, this is me and Tiff... at karaoke night on Wednesday, the night before my second chemo treatment. Just laughing and having fun. Nothing serious. That night was the best I'd felt physically since my first dose.

Now, its the day after the second dose and I'm moving a little slow, but I am not as achy as before. I'm hoping that it will remain this manageable for the next few days.

I wanted to tell y'all about the pee-pee man... and why I ended up writing all that stuff about my boyfriend.

On Thursday, D dropped me off at the medical center while he looked for a parking space. So I was in the waiting room by myself. Rather, I was without him but I wasn't alone because it was very crowded in there Thursday morning.

An older white gentleman came in, looking disheveled and unbathed but he seemed generally in control of his faculties. And then he walked past me and sat one seat away from me. Whew lawd... he smelled like strong urine. It was sad. His clothes were wrinkled and a bit dirty, his hair looked unwashed and stringy... he had this sad little black briefcase in his hand. Just a sight of pitifulness.

And the thought that hit me was... he's all alone. With the exception of a few folks, most of the patients had someone accompanying them. Let me tell you... it is a sad experience going to the Cancer Center. You know that everyone there is in a crisis. Some of us look like it, others do not. But you wouldn't be there if you didn't have to be.

D has gone with me to every doctor visit leading up to the chemotherapy and each chemo trip. He has been by my side every scary step of the way. As I stole glances at this gentleman, I felt sad for him. He seemed to be capable enough of taking care of himself, but not fully so. I wondered if he was single, or divorced or widowed. Someone around to tell him the basics like... honey, you can't wear these clothes, they stink. Or baby, you stink. Something like that... just a reminder in the midst of his own crisis that the world still goes on and you can be a part of it too.

A few moments later, D came up -- I sent him a warning text that the pee-pee man was in the waiting room and it was stanking to high heaven in there. He came into the center and found me. Greeted me with a kiss... and then pulled out a starbucks bag. :)

He had picked up some breakfast for me... an apple fritter and some luscious grapefruit juice. He didn't have to be that thoughtful, he never does... but he always is. Always. Even when I'm snappy, or silent, or tearful... he's right there, right there.... RIGHT THERE.

He took me back to the hospital today... for my follow up injection. And he had learned the day before when we were talking with the oncologists... that I have been battling some wicked gas. I mean... wooo lawd there are some moments over here when I just can't stand my own self. I've been keeping that secret really close to my heart. lol...

So... this afternoon, I had a moment when we were at pizza hut... when I felt the wickedness coming upon me... and I didn't know what to do. So, I did what I thought was best. I warned him that I was about to blow!

He could have made jokes, or made me feel badly... but he just laughed... and then challenged me to a duel.

lol... I do love that man.

I passed on the duel. Something tells me... I would have lost that fight... but I loved the way he diffused my fear just that easily.

I like going to the restaurant where he works...and just being around him and his family. But looking at the picture of me and Tiff... I know there will be days to come when I can't make it. There already have been days I had to stay in the bed. Didn't help when the doctor told me I couldn't have any late nights. I needed to get my rest, and stay home as much as possible.

What??

I tried to plead my love case... "my boyfriend works at a restaurant and I don't get to see him too often unless I go to where he is...." Yeah... that didn't go over to swell. I used to go over about 5 times a week. Have dinner with my baby after work, then head home. But now... its like once every other week. Maybe twice in a two week period. So, the time we spend in chemo is even more priceless because its basically hours of uninterrupted time.

All that to say... although I enjoy talking about people and giggling... won't lie. I often learn a lot about myself and life by just watching people. The pee-pee man reminded me that having someone in your corner, boyfriend, girlfriend, neighbors, family, colleagues... is priceless.

Just like this picture of me and Tiff.

Priceless.

2nd dose down....

So far, I'm feeling okay. My doctors told me today that my PET scan was clear... which means that the cancer has not spread beyond my breast/lymph nodes. That was good to hear.

I'm gonna let you in on a secret. My pubic hair has started to leave me. :(

I realized the other day in the shower... and it upset me so much that I had to lay down and cry for awhile. I felt like such a baby crying about it too. In all honesty, I had no idea it would go. At least not right away. And I thought that by the time it did go, that I would be in a better place about this hair loss. So, if you talked to me over the past few days and I was a little moody... that's why. And since its just not the type of thing that you just say to people... I just had to hold it in for awhile until I came to grips with it.

This thing is real y'all.

I ordered a couple of wigs over the weekend and they arrived yesterday. I'm really not feeling these. Luckily they were cheap and I could afford the risk. I may keep looking around. And I'm definitely going to call my insurance company back to discuss the issue of paying for it. I learned that the state of Maryland has a law that insurers must cover hair replacement/wigs/etc. for chemotherapy patients. Let me add... I looked cute in the wigs... I just wasn't feeling it. All that hair in my eyes, on my face... yuck. YUCK! It was just... its been a long long long time since Nicole has had hair long enough to touch her skin. In fact, its been so long that the sight of long hair (other people's) makes my skin crawl.

You know how you visit other people's homes... or use a public bathroom and there may be a few little hairs that belong to someone else lying around? Well... that creeps me out. Seriously. I just stand there for a minute with a ghastly look on my face like... "eww... that came out of somebody's head."

*shudder*

Anyhoo... (just sharing...lol)

But that leads me back to my shower incident. At first I thought I was seeing things when I noticed that clump in my hand... (maybe this is too personal, too gross to share, hmmm). But it happened several times and then my tears joined the shower spray. Just like... damn.

My surgeon mentioned that I would lose hair all over -- but I still didn't think ALL over for some reason. Her joke was that she didn't have to shave her legs for 6 months. It still did not occur to me that this would happen. I don't know what I was thinking but I was definitely surprised. However, judging from the way that its happening... this hair loss thing will be un-sexy. I'm imaging little bald spots springing up here and there. I may have to make one more trip to the barbershop after all... because I may need to have my head shaved.

wow. That's a blower.

So, today's visit was rather uneventful. I sat and talked with the oncologists. They were in good spirits, I was in good spirits. It was a nice visit. I learned that I don't have more cancer to freak out about. They told me that I was doing very well. And they agreed with me that my insurance company sounds like a bunch of cheap freaks. (well, they didn't use that language but they encouraged me to call back and talk to a supervisor for better information) So, I will likely be calling tomorrow after I get my booster shot.

And... speaking of said shot... its that thing right there... that makes me feel like utter crapola for days. That dang neulasta shot that boosts my white blood cells... also makes me achy and sore and tired and nauseous, and all those things.

Have I mentioned lately that my boyfriend is the bomb?? lol... I am still so very amazed that he continues to hold my hand throughout this process. God definitely provides what you need, when you need it. Because I needed this guy at this time in my life. I cannot imagine going through all of this uncertainty and fear with a boyfriend who would have been unable to be by my side this way. I know me well enough to know, I would have gotten through it alone. I would have never complained because there would likely have been "good" reasons why he couldn't be there -- mostly work related issues -- but I would have been heartbroken about it. But... I don't have to be there by myself. He has been there, without grudge or complaint. Taking it all in. I worry about him -- which he brushes off -- but I know that this is a heavy burden to bear. I keep him in my prayers.

I am also fortunate that I have really really good friends who will come with me on the next chemotherapy date because he can't make it. I would have asked my mother, but honestly, I don't think she would handle seeing me hooked up to the IV for hours. Especially when Theresa does that first needle into my port -- its rough to see. She sort of jabs this long needle into my chest... and it hurts like the dickens. Next comes the blood samples... about 4 tubes. And then comes the drips. Its not cool to watch. When I watch her and the other nurses hooking up other patients, I cringe. Even though I'm sitting right beside them and getting the same thing... it is not pleasant to watch. So... my mom will have to be protected from this part of the struggle. It will be hard enough for her to deal with the surgery and its aftermath.

Hmmm... I think I just freaked out my friends who are planning to visit with me on October 2nd. I hope not. But if so... know that I do understand. Believe me.

I feel some nausea coming on, so I guess that's my cue to lay back down.

How do I feel? Less powerless than I did the other day... more courageous than I felt last night. A bit achy... but I had some ice cream after my chemo... and that strawberry made it all better.

~Nic

morning grumble: not quite a vent, not quite a praise report

I didn't want to come to work today, but I didn't have a good reason to stay home -- except that my sheets felt good. That's a loser proposition. So, I picked up my latest O magazine and headed for work.

Forgot that it was the October issue... so there were several breast cancer stories inside. (just great...) I start to read the first one on the train...and the tears would not stop flowing. My life is nothing like the writer's yet.. I completely felt and understood every thing that she wrote. And it made me wonder if my words about my story were having the same effect on other people.

She was a white woman, married with two small girls... and her story about preparing for her 3 year old's birthday party was simply priceless. It was a well-written story and I'm grateful that O magazine shared it because it was a turning point for me this morning.

A lot of you have mentioned that I should turn the blog into a book. And even a few of you were surprised that I write pretty good (writer's joke... I write well, not good). I love to write. I have been constructing stories since I was a little girl and I will probably continue to write -- hmmm, I was going to say into my old age but -- until I can't do anything else. But writing is a tricky thing... it is simple and convoluted at the same time. Whether or not this blog becomes something tangible remains to be seen. But even if it doesn't... I will continue writing it until (and beyond) the day that I learn that I am cancer-free.

After reading that powerful article and reflecting (as usual) on my own stuff and my own issues with having cancer... I have realized that I'm sick of pink ribbons and platitudes. I'm sick of breast cancer and fundraisers. I'm tired of reading stories where women feel forced to be brave and strong, for their kids, their spouses/partners, their families, their work colleagues... I am tired of all variations of super-woman that we put ourselves through.

Breast cancer sucks. I make no bones about it. I am not apologetic that I even have it. I am angry. I am sad. I am scared. But I'm even more scared that I don't feel that I have time to breathe. And when I read other women's writings/thoughts about it -- I hate that they feel the same way.

There are statistics that say that 1 in 8 women will have breast cancer before they die.

1 in 8.

How outrageous is that? Count out 8 of your friends... one of them will have breast cancer before you have the opportunity to fully flesh out all the nuances of your lives together. And if you're black, you are more likely to die from breast cancer than women of any other race.

I am going to plan a party for the month of October. I don't know what the theme will be -- but it will have something to do with breast cancer. But it will also have something to do with living out your dreams too.

Something like...

My life matters and this is what I want to do with it.

Thinking about death and working from home

Today was the 7th anniversary of the September 11th attacks. I can honestly still feel the terror I felt that day... its something that shook me to my foundation. Though I didn't know anyone personally who died in those crashes... I felt the pain as deeply as if I did. Its difficult to describe, but I mourned for months... maybe even years... the senseless deaths of innocent people.

Last night I was dreading today... I had heard about all the street closings (there was a memorial service at the Pentagon today) and anticipated that morning rush hour was going to be horrible. I went to bed early -- like I do these days -- thinking that I would have to really get it together for the morning, if I wanted to get to work on time. (that's very important these days, ya know...)

So of course, my anxiety got the best of me and I spent the entire night running back and forth to the bathroom. I stopped counting by the 10th trip. I woke up feeling miserable but since that's not entirely unheard of right now, I figured I'd make it through.

nope.

Six more trips to the bathroom this morning... before 7 am. I had to accept that it was a bad night and it was starting to be a bad morning... and maybe, just maybe, working from home was the option to utilize. So, I did... and then I had to battle guilt with myself for another hour.

I do not understand why I feel so guilty for being sick. But I swear, I really do. I feel like my illness is just a big ol' imposition on every body's life. And before I get fussed at... I know I shouldn't feel that way but I do. As much as I try to encourage everyone around me to do a little something for someone else... I have so much difficulty asking or accepting help from others.

I am working on it.

I realized... slowly... that my neck, throat and ear were really achy. But I didn't think much of it because well... all of me aches (especially the part that's been propped on the "white throne" a lot lately). That is, until I started reading more about having cancer... and I read something that said that infections could delay your chemotherapy treatments. And delaying chemo is a very bad thing.

Seems that doctors (amazing people that they are) not only figure out what drugs to prescribe to you to kill all the yuckiness inside, they also put it on a schedule that is best for your body and best to eliminate the cancer. However, infections put a slow-down on the process because, they have to be taken care of prior to the chemotherapy. Long story short... I have 7 days until my next treatment... and anybody who has ever had an infection knows... its typically 10 days before the antibiotics run their course.

That's a problem.

So... is my ear, neck, throat pain an infection? Or my over-active (and sometimes hostile) imagination? Dunno. I called my oncologist (first mistake) and by the time the nurses called me back, they were under the impression that I had been to my primary care doctor and wanted to know what drugs he had prescribed.

I had no idea I could even do that -- call a different doctor for a different problem. (sounds silly now, but I didn't know that)

After talking with the very nice (if not very patient) nurse, she realized that I was self-diagnosing myself and I was freaking out because I didn't want anything to slow up or otherwise derail my chemo schedule. (I need Fred and friends to be gone... on time) She asked me to do one small thing.... take my temperature and call her back. She mentioned to me that one of my cancer drugs gives me flu-like symptoms -- which I know to be true because that's how I've been feeling since last Thursday -- so while it was important, I didn't need to alarm myself unnecessarily either.

I limped around the house looking for a thermometer only to realize that I couldn't read the darn thing. And its not because I don't know how... but I couldn't see the mercury line. (seems that lately my vision has been even less clear than normal and I don't see much very clearly anymore... but I ain't telling nobody that)

I laid back down and tried to figure out how to handle this latest minor dilemma. I have a neighbor (Hey Vera!!) who is also a DC Sistagirl and she made me swear that if I ever needed her that I had to call her (she is not a mind-reader, thank you).

Y'all know what happened right?

I didn't call.

But I had a lot of good reasons why.

My folks had just gone out for a moment and rather than upset Vera and make her think that I was dying or something... it could wait until someone came home and could help me.

Do not... throw rocks at the screen right now.

However, by the time my folks came back home, the Tylenol had kicked in and I wasn't in pain anymore... so I took a quick nap.

I have decided that tomorrow, when I go to work, I will find a new thermometer (one that I can read easily) and take my temperature then. If its high -- which I don't think it is -- then I'll walk around the corner to Dr. Kabatsi's office and see if he can write me a prescription for something.

Today's lesson is... skip hugging and kissing folks. Keep antibacterial gel with me always. And be much more careful who I sit near on the train. Folks are germy messes. Eww.

Before I came to a logical conclusion that I was being a big baby... I had more thoughts about my own death. I know that you don't want to hear this, but this is as honest as it gets for me. I think about dying every day now. And it is not the same as the way that I thought about death when I was battling depression. I don't think of it in the way of... say, planning my funeral... but more in terms of what if questions.

What if, after all this money and time and drama... I end up dying because of breast cancer? Will I still think its worth it? What if... I forget that one person who meant something to me in my life and I don't reach out to them and I die... will they understand, forgive me and believe that they were special in my life? What if... I don't die but I don't get better... and I end up a shriveled sick mess... am I strong enough to live a life without full use of my whole body?

and so forth. I know that we all end this life with death. And I know that dying doesn't have to be a sad or somber experience. But I know that knowing something logically is vastly different from trying to plan your 40th birthday celebration and wondering where you're going to be physically because cancer decided to stop at your house one day a few months prior. I do not feel that I'm going to die from this. Let me be clear. I honestly don't.

I'm saved. I have no doubt that when I die, Jesus and I will have a good long chat in heaven. I am not so worried about me -- but about the people I would leave behind. I guess I should say that my thoughts circle around making sure that everyone around me, everyone I know, everyone I love... KNOWS that I love them. Knows that I care for them. Knows that they are fully enmeshed in my heart.

Everyday, I think about people I haven't seen or talked to in years and wonder if its appropriate to call them up, or email them and just say hey... I wanted to let you know that you mean something to me.

One person who is on my heart... Ednita Tingle. :) Girl, I miss you. Just had to get that out there.

But honestly... it seems disingenuous to say that I have feelings and emotions for thousands of people I have crossed paths with in my life. But that is how I feel. I guess I'm assuming that people even think of me years later... that's sort of arrogant, huh?

If its arrogant, then that's my name today.

Go in peace all the families and concerned citizens who found today a little harder than yesterday to get through. Tomorrow, we all have another chance to make it better.

I love you. (and I'm not just saying that)

Good news and good news...

The first good news... my dad got the word that he can go back to work. This is fantastic news! A few months ago, we were in ICU at GW Hospital praying for him to make a full recovery from his aneurysm. Now... we're seeing those prayers come to fruition.

My daddy (yeah, I still call him that) is better. I am so excited that he can go back to work now. Gives me one more reason to be excited that this stuff I'm going through... is just temporary.

My second good news... is that I talked to my auntie tonight. And she made me feel better in a way that only an auntie can. :) Thank you auntie.... and I love you.

That's it... I'm going to bed.

Suzy is tired.

I am tired of not feeling like Nic

Being the nerd that I am... after finding out that I have cancer, I have made it my business to crawl over the Internet looking for information, support groups, whatever... anything to help me with this transition.

I have signed up for a bunch of e-newsletters... probably promising me far more than they can deliver but it makes for good reading when my mind starts wandering down the "I have cancer" hallway. Little tidbits of good reading, latest clinical trials or tips to battle nausea... just small notions that keep me on track.

Yesterday, I received a newsletter and there was a story about this lady who had breast cancer. But she was so special, so mystical, so superlative... that she never ever ever stopped doing anything that she did prior to being diagnosed.

(gas face)

For some hellish reason, I chose to read this article. I guess I was looking for some insight, some inspiration or something. A light basically... that would shine on my forehead and make it all better somehow.

Well...after reading about (let's call her Suzy Do It All)... and how she never skipped a damn beat, I wanted to beat myself in the head with a hammer.

She went to radiology while her daughter was in school. She took naps before her daughter came home from school. Then she continued to kick-box or jujitsu or whatever-the-fck-sort of aerobic ICANKICKYOURBUTT exercises she used to teach... every single day. She still cooked dinner for her family, helped her kids with their homework... and basically... Suzy was a gawd-damn STAR! Suzy just kept on keeping on... and no one (supposedly) ever really noticed that Suzy had breast cancer and was in treatment for it.

Woop-de-damn-do! Good-for-freakin'-her.

That story pissed me off in so many ways I can't begin to list them all.

Long before breast cancer darkened my door... depression entered my life. And I learned way back then... that trying to do it all, be it all, have it all... was a quick way to burn it all the hell up. So, I do what I can and that's it. I don't accept the label of super-woman, or anything close. In fact, I rebuke that evil... every chance I get.

I'm sure that the writer of this article felt that he/she was doing the world a favor by highlighting that cancer doesn't have to stop you in your tracks. Your life can go on.

Guess what? Cancer will stop you in your tracks. And that doesn't make you bad or a slacker or any way less than Suzy Do It All. It makes you human. And fragile and in need of tender loving care.

That article made me angry... and I'm still residually angry today because I realize that I have been trying (in my own way) to be Suzy Do It All too. But I can't. And the frustration that I feel is a sign that I cannot do everything.

I cannot answer every email. But I try. I cannot direct every DCSG through the mazes of figuring out how they receive their messages. But I try. I cannot coordinate every nuance of every moment of every work day. But I try. And I try and I come up short and then I cry because I'm frustrated.

I can't do it.

My name is Nicole Valencia... not Suzy Do It All. And for every story that someone shares with me about their super-human friend, cousin, grandma... a little piece of me withers away... because that might not be my experience. How can I express that feeling... without feeling like I'm giving up on who I am?

So far, out of all the advice that I've been given these past few weeks... one thing has stuck out for me.

Every cancer experience is unique. What worked for one person may or may not work for you. Allow yourself to be uniquely taken care of...

that is the best gift I can give to myself ... and to you.

I don't feel 100% like me most days. And I'm more frustrated than you can imagine because I don't feel like myself most days. But I am trying.

I don't know if I'll ever feel the way I used to, or if I will (once again) have to get comfy in new skin that is similar to the old and yet completely different.

I don't know. But I do know this... Suzy Do It All... don't live here. So, when you start to realize that I'm not returning your email pleas for help, don't take it personal... I'm just taking care of Nicole Valencia ... for a little while.

I am fricking... exhausted

I was warned. They tried to prepare me. But nothing can fully prepare you for the pure exhaustion that you feel after chemotherapy.

I am tired. Actually, I'm more than tired... I am slam tuckered out.

I have more energy today than yesterday... and tomorrow, I'll probably have more energy as well. And so forth.

I thought that I was a bit of a lazy girl... more bum than anything. But now that I find it darn near impossible to do anything I used to do, without wanting a nap... I realize that I was quite a busy little bee.

I am running into the problem that I don't "look" like I'm in chemotherapy so people are assuming that I'm stronger than I actually feel. The folks at work (some....) don't seem to fully embrace that I have cancer. And its not a regular ol' walk in the park sort of situation.

This morning I was running late... even in my regular world getting in to the office early is a challenge. Now, the challenge is turned up to 10+ but I do what I say I'm going to do. I get here late and basically get chastised because I came late and I left a little early yesterday.

I suck it up. Truthfully, what else can I do? Health insurance isn't cheap for the healthy... and I'm no longer in that camp. But honestly, if I wasn't so tired, I might have stormed off the job today and just said... EFF IT!

I have cancer. I say it to myself several times a day... mostly because I just can't believe it but also to ground myself in the notion that everything I used to do, is just not possible right now. Why?

I have cancer.

Seems basic, but I guess its really not.

I was afraid a few weeks back about losing my job because I couldn't keep up. Now... all I care deeply about is getting through chemotherapy and onto that surgery table. Everything ... and I mean everything... falls way after that.

My paternal grandmother died of cancer (not breast cancer) when I was a little girl. And right now, not a day goes by when I don't think of her and wonder if she felt the way I feel right now. Confused, amazed, disturbed, pissed off.... tired, guilty, afraid... and more. I'm sure she did, and I'm sure she felt it more acutely because she had a family of kids and a few grand kids that she probably wanted to spend more time with.

Today... I am battling more nausea than usual... and I'm a little cranky and irritable. But even with that....

I am happy to be alive... even with cancer. And I have nothing to regret for the day. :)

It is a good day... to be a sexy, bald chemo girl.

Food, food, glorious food

I started the day going to church with my mom. Neither of us have been in awhile but a friend, well, my brother from other parents, has a church that I have been promising him I would come and attend. We had a good time... and the word was good. :)

After church we stopped at the grocery store to pick up a few things... I wanted to get some things to help me through the week. Picked up some yogurt, some carnation instant breakfast, some plums (just wanted some fresh fruit) and a few other things to try.

We also bought a store rotisserie chicken. MAN... MAN... that was the best chicken I ever had. Well, not the very best, but it was good. I could taste it. It didn't taste like plastic or metal. WOOHOO!

I tried to eat a donut I bought from the store...two bites in I wanted to throw it out the window. But after a little chicken wing, it had some flavor. So I'm guessing that the rinsing before I try to eat is very important and making sure that what I eat has strong flavor will help too. I'm still concerned about my fluid intake, its too low right now but... hopefully I'll figure out a way to cancel that.

I read a comment from a cancer poster on Planet Cancer, that described in painful details the affects of being dehydrated and trying to get through chemo. Let's just say... it ain't sound too fun. So... if you see coupons for Ensure, or something like that... hook a sista up.

I fell asleep shortly after getting home... I think I'm going to have a really long day at work tomorrow. But I'm going to give it my best try. Napping is such a great thing. :)

Oh yeah... some vanilla yogurt... was delish-ous.

Right now, I'm having another drumstick (they are small...let me tell you)... and a little scoop of mashed 'taters. :) Yummy...

Food is good. Woohoo.

Banana flavored oatmeal... that's what's up.

My daddy just made me some banana flavored oatmeal. Normally... I think it should be used as glue or caulk. But today...

This is what's really good!

I can finally take my medicine.

Yay. Now, I guess I'll have some hot tea to wash it down. :)

...its the little things I tell you. The little itty bitty things that make it seem like... yeah, this will be okay.

Found this on Cancer.gov's website - taste issues

Taste Changes

Changes in how foods taste may be caused by radiation treatment, dental problems, or medicines. Cancer patients often complain of changes in their sense of taste when undergoing chemotherapy, in particular a bitter taste sensation. A sudden dislike for certain foods may occur. This may result in food avoidance, weight loss, and anorexia, which can greatly reduce the patients' quality of life. Some or all of the sense of taste may return, but it may be a year after treatment ends before the sense of taste is normal again. Drinking plenty of fluids, changing the types of foods eaten and adding spices or flavorings to food may help.

The following suggestions may help cancer patients manage changes in taste:

Rinse mouth with water before eating.
Try citrus fruits (oranges, tangerines, lemons, grapefruit) unless mouth sores are present.
Eat small meals and healthy snacks several times a day.
Eat meals when hungry rather than at set mealtimes.
Use plastic utensils if foods taste metallic.
Try favorite foods.
Eat with family and friends.
Have others prepare the meal.
Try new foods when feeling best.
Substitute poultry, fish, eggs, and cheese for red meat.
Find nonmeat, high- protein recipes in a vegetarian or Chinese cookbook.
Use sugar-free lemon drops, gum, or mints if there is a metallic or bitter taste in the mouth.
Add spices and sauces to foods.
Eat meat with something sweet, such as cranberry sauce, jelly, or applesauce.

Taking zinc sulfate tablets during radiation therapy to the head and neck may speed the return of normal taste after treatment.

Hipping you to the SCAR project

There is a photographer who is taking pictures of breast cancer survivors after their lumpectomies and/or mastectomies. I shared the link on this blog and I'm going to ask that if you can, take a look at some of these women.

The pictures are hard and graphic... I won't lie. But if you look at their faces, they tell the whole story. At any rate... if you happen to know anyone who fits the criteria of subjects he's looking for, please share this information with them. Thanks.

~Nic
=============
The SCAR Project. Portrait Subjects Needed.


Hello Everyone,

I have resumed shooting The SCAR Project. For those of you who don't know, "The SCAR Project: Surviving Cancer. Absolute Reality” is a series of large scale black and white portraits of young women surviving breast cancer. Here is a link to a temporary web gallery of some of the pictures I shot last year: http://www.davidjayphotography.com/TheSCARProject/. There will be a fund/awareness raising exhibition and possibly a book. A freelance director associated with Lifetime TV is about to begin a full length documentary on The SCAR Project.I do not choose the subjects for The SCAR Project. I shoot anyone who wants to participate. As The SCAR Project is an awareness raising campaign for the youngest segment of the female population, the only criteria is age. Eventually, I hope to shoot everyone who wants to participate. Last year the majority of the subjects were between 30 and 40. We are currently shooting 30 and under. If anyone is interested in participating, please visit the web at www.thescarproject.org and fill out the brief questionnaire. I look forward to hearing from you and taking your picture.

Sincerely,

David Jaywww.thescarproject.org

Woke up achy and hungry...

I had a grilled cheese sandwich last night that was pretty okay. I really enjoy grilled cheese sandwiches so I was really crossing my fingers that it wouldn't have that same strange taste to me. Now, it did taste a little different but it really wasn't horrible at all.

Yay me. One thing I know I can eat. :)

Yesterday after my injection, the boyfriend dropped me off at the nail salon where I treated myself to a much needed pedicure and a fill-in. Of course, as soon as I stepped out of the truck, I run into two people I know: Rachel Primo and Linda Henderson. It was a great and pleasant surprise.

After my services (Nancy at Golden Nails... very good)... I went over to my old job, National Retail Federation to connect with Linda and others at the office. You ever had a job that you really enjoyed, where the people were nice and you liked going to work every day? National Retail Federation was that for me. One bizarre incident led to my departure (which I won't share here...) but I still have good feelings for the organization. My old boss, Mallory, and I chatted for a long time and I tried to catch him up on the past few years. It was a good visit. So happy I saw my Linda-bird. :)

After that, I stopped around the corner to Sports Tavern (formerly Top Shelf) and had some pasta and that sad ginger ale and water... like I said, the pasta was good, but the drinks I just couldn't do it.

My plan was to hang out until about 7 so I could run over to Zanzibar to the Meetup party. I mean, my groups were there so I thought it would be cool if I joined the party. But I absolutely could not hang on. During the course of my meal, it became apparent that my visiting and pampering had absolutely drained me.

When the achiness comes on me... it starts in my hips. Then it travels to my knees... and up to my shoulders. By the time it reaches my shoulders, I need to be horizontal. Completely. Movements have to be limited and very choreographed.

*sigh*

So... I sent a message to Cozzie, my DCSG super-hero back up and let her know that I just couldn't make it. The hips were giving me the sign that it was time to shut it down. I hope they had a good time last night.

I was in the bed before 8pm.

I received a beautiful bouquet of roses from my cousins in California, Carolyn and John. (smooches!!) Thank you, I'll be calling you later on to say thanks. (I know you don't do blogging...lol) I can't wait until I'm able to come back that way and visit. I haven't seen the new house now that you've moved in. But I hear that its fabulous.

...all in all, including the injection, the blood drawing, the urine tests... the pampering and giggles with Nancy, the visit with Primo and Linda on the street, the visit with Margaret, Sandy, Peggy, Tracy, and Mallory... and the pasta bolognese from Sports Tavern...

it wasn't a bad day to be a sexy, bald chemo girl.

*wink*

Smooches, again to my baby for going with me to the hospital. He's such a darling... I won't trade him for a million dollars.

....we might have a tussle over 100 million though.

Jokes.

A quote I just found on Planet Cancer...

I have a prayer that made me feel better when I found it.

"may God bless the hearts of those who love and care for me, may he turn the hearts of those who don't. Or at least their ankles so I can recognize the bastards when they limp up on me."

So... now, my taste buds are gone

I woke up today thinking... hey not so horrible. I made it through the night and it was okay. I feel really sluggish and heavy for some reason... but I think I'll make it through the next few months.

And then I went out with the boyfriend for breakfast before my follow-up injection.

Nothing tasted good. Orange juice tasted like it had chalk in it. Pancakes... yuck. Even the freaking fruit bowl was gross.

Tried later in the day to eat something again... and again... nada. Ginger ale tasted like some cross between old plastic and metal. Tried some plain water... same taste. My spaghetti was cool... but I need liquids in my life.

I'm scouring the internet and asking everyone I know what to do. I want to lose 50 pounds... but I don't want it to be because of starvation or dehydration.

Help me.

Kind of a cross between a really wicked hangover and being in a car accident...

Not sure how many of you out there enjoy good social libations -- like myself -- but the reason why I'm awake at 6am (woke up at 345 for a potty break...) is because well... I'm not feeling so peppy right now.

I feel like I had one helluva night at a really good bar. Headachy, body achy... bleah. The other closest thing I can describe it as, is how your body feels after a car accident. (I'm talking about an accident where your car protected you from visible injury but you're definitely shook up) A bit achy and out of sorts.

I am so proud that I haven't vomited once. Woo hoo. Something tells me that down the line, this small victory will be necessary for my self-esteem. :) No vomiting, a little nausea, lots of heartburn (not unusual, it happens from time to time)... no diarrhea ... just achiness and a low headache. Oh... and there was some odd tingly feeling in my thumb for a short time. It went away but whatever it is a sign of, Darryl (the boyfriend) was not pleased with my report. Hmmm... so glad it went away. I have NO energy to go to the emergency room.

I will admit that I am walking slowly...and I am definitely not at my perky best. But I am doing alright actually.

Did I mention that the bandages I purchased to cover my stitches from my port implantation BROKE ME OUT!!?? That's another minor part of my misery. I've been scratching like I have fleas for days. I have these lovely squarish outlines of blemished, blistered just funky angry skin surrounding stitches and a port. I can't recall ever being allergic to Band-Aid brand bandages (yeah, that's right, I put 'em on blast) I have beautiful skin and I'd like to keep it that way... thankyverymuch.

It is a mess. Theresa (my nurse buddy)... took one look and was like... wow... that's not a good look. lol... I don't know what to put on it because its so close to my incision which is still healing. Any ideas out there?

Okay... gonna run. I am tired but I can't freaking get to sleep. And my little tv (which only gets 2 or 3 channels on a good day...) is stuck on the infomercial station. If I see Donald Trump, one mo' time... good gravy.

Hope you have a spectacular day. I'm hoping that my follow up visit to the hospital today... will put a little pep in my step. I am not trying to go through the weekend feeling this yucky. Even if its low-grade, tolerable yucky.

Did I also mention that one of the prescriptions I had filled today is STEROIDS? I am already a fat-azz (yeah, I hate it too but its true)... the steroids issue will have to be discussed. If I gain one more pound, I'll cry. For real.