Well, treatment number three has came and went and it sucked. I’m almost halfway there and I just really want it to be over with now. Having so many limitations on what I can and cannot do just seems like it should be part of the deal at this point but to speak like a child having a temper tantrum, I HATE IT AND DON’T WANT IT ANYMORE. This is an especially shitty situation because I was determined to have the best summer ever but meanwhile I spend more days than not sitting in my room praying that I won’t be tired to get up that day. Since I haven’t spent most of these times complaining I will hop back on to my positivity train and share with you some amazing news I received before getting the awful #3.
Like every other Monday I was on my way to Sloan to get treatment number 3. This one seemed different though, I wasn’t “ready” like I usually was; Wasn’t pepped up for my fight. I was tired and sad and uncomfortable. I had a massive headache and I couldn’t stop crying. In the waiting room, I just busted out into tears and couldn’t stop. You would expect tears in a waiting room for chemo, but nope, it was just me, the biggest baby in the room. I think I just had enough of it at that point, my hair was really starting to fall out, I was dizzy, always had headaches and all I wanted was to be normal. All of these are still true by the way, I just have some good news to make it a little better. I was scheduled to meet with the same RN I had met with last time before the treatment and she would hopefully be able to tell us yet again if the tumor had shrunk or not. During my outburst, our friend Christian who has been helping us with all our scheduling needs came over and let us know that because of the holiday there was some scheduling issues and I would now be meeting with the head nurse Iris instead. My mother was not happy with this news and let Christian know. How would they be able to tell if the tumors got smaller if they’ve never felt them before? I definitely agreed but was already too miserable to put up a fight. We went to the exam room and sat with the head nurse Iris, who was a sweetheart and talked the usual side effects. Then time for the exam, she spent extra time feeling around and seemed confused and then actually asked me where exactly the tumor was. “Have you been checking on your own?” Absolutely not you crazy person! You think I want to give myself more anxiety because if you can’t find it I’m sure I would find 35 more and be dead in the morning. Well she said multiple times that it was absolutely smaller than they wrote in the notes section and she couldn’t even find the one under my armpit. OK, good news good news. The stupid question on its way, so the chemo is working? Yes, that has to be it. My mother was not convinced, “you’ve never checked her before so how can you be sure? Should we schedule a sonogram.” Out she goes for the second time to check with my doctor and on her way back in who does she bring in? My doctor! Probably to shut my mom up but also, I think she might have been a teeeeeeny bit worried that she legit just didn’t know where the tumor is but I’ll take it! So back on the examination table and my doctor confirmed, she could barely find the tumor. Once dressed I sat back down with my parents and my doctor said how happy she was with these results, only two treatments down and the tumor had already shrunk so much they could barely find it. I immediately was in happy tears and my cute little doctor gave me the biggest hug. I love her, couldn’t have asked for a better doctor and team in general. This was exactly the news I needed to conquer treatment 3. Yippppieee.
For #3 I finally got my own room, maybe I’m considered a seasoned veteran at this point. There was a nice tablet hooked up to my chair that let me control the temperature in the room, play games, watch TV and even order food if I wanted to. Treatment was underway. One thing that no one really let me know about was how much getting the IVs would hurt. They don’t put it in your arm like you normally would to get blood, the put them in your hands. Huge scary needles in my tiny little hands. It is VERY painful and it hurts for days after, to be honest my hand still hurts from treatment #2. I have the option to get a port but that would be another minor surgery to get it inserted and I would have to walk around with the tube sticking out of my chest until this is all over. In the moment, it always seems like the better option though. My little baby hands can only handle so much. After the multiple attempts of getting the IV in I was as chipper as possible, armed with my good news. Ok it’s working, so keep doing what you’re doing Kim.
Even though I was chipper during the treatment, it didn’t last for very long afterwards. Now in general it takes A LOT to make me nauseous, I have a thick stomach, probably why I don’t have that yoga body yet. This round day 2 & 3, I was very nauseous and had to break out the “just in case you feel sick” medications. Thankfully they helped and I was able to fight down some food. Days 4-6 were awful, I was so dizzy and exhausted. I tried to be normal but I really couldn’t handle it. To give you an idea here’s a little something that happened to me on Day 5. I was feeling so dizzy but I was so sick of sitting in my house that I wanted to do something, anything. One of my good friends was working from home for the day so he suggested we hang out and it would give me a chance to get back on my blogging, which I have been slacking from, SORRY. I was half reading my texts but he said “be over by 12 so we can order lunch.” Ok, he lives around the block from me so I can leave by 11:55 and still be there with time to spare. It didn’t help that it was torrential down pouring out. I texted him to let him know I was there and to open the door for me so I wasn’t standing outside in the rain, not that I had to worry about my hair getting wet, get it? Anyway, he said he was sending Andrew to open the door for me but said he didn’t see me. I’M RIGHT HERE HOW DO YOU NOT SEE ME. Ok, whatever door is open. I run inside completely soaked. “Hello?” Thankfully the pup was there to greet me as I’m walking around. No one seems to be here, that’s strange as the minutes tick by. As I’m walking around so confused I’m like wait maybe my crazy chemo brain made this all up and I’m not even supposed to be here, everything is a lie. My phone goes off “You’re at Andrew’s house, not mine, right?” NOPE I AM IN YOUR HOUSE ALONE WITH YOUR DOG. I run out like I had just robbed the place, and to be honest I pretty much felt like I had. I then make it to the correct house and it’s still down pouring, after confirming the door is open I run inside. Um, why won’t my car lock. Whatever, blaming it on the rain. After two hours of not blogging or doing much of anything I decide this is all my body can take and it’s time to go home. I walk outside; that’s weird it sounds like my car is on. Oh right, that’s cause my car is on, two hours later. Ok Kim time to go home and stay there for the day because you are not ready for the world. I mean to be fair, this all could have happened to me outside of chemo, but I’m blaming it on chemo brain fully and I will not waver. Chemo brain is real.
Everyone has still been insanely nice to me after all this time, I would have assumed people would have gotten bored by my sob story by now. At least we’re all waiting for this to be over together. Yesterday I received a book from two friends of mine titled “Bald is Better with Earrings: A Survivor’s Guide to Getting Through Breast Cancer” I furiously started reading it. It’s actually really helpful, obviously, I’m passed the beginning stages but it’s still interesting to read someone else’s story. Two things stuck out to me while reading though the fact that I will no longer have feeling in my breasts for the rest of my life and that I’m not alone when it comes to blogging. Everyone seems to be writing their feelings away when it comes to hardships, which is great in the digital age but it also means I may have to get a 9 to 5 again when this is all over. But for real, the fact that for the rest of my life I’m going to have two huge fake boobs on my body with no feeling in them really freaks me out. The book tells you to start preparing yourself for it as soon as possible, to look at pictures of the scars and read others accounts of what it feels like. I am definitely not ready for that yet. I still even had my second meeting with my surgeon yet, so until then I will wait in the dark.
To get back to the fact that everyone’s been so nice to me lately I do have one simple request from all of you. This year, if timing permits I will be walking in The Avon 39: The Walk to End Breast Cancer in New York. It’s a two-day event where each participant has to raise $1,800 to walk. I have posted a picture below of the poster and why each participant needs to raise the money. I will be walking with my mom, hopefully if we raise enough money. Last year New York alone raised $7.6 million for breast cancer research. With such a high percentage of breast cancer in Long Island alone, the money is definitely very well needed. I hate asking for things as most of you guys know but this time I will. If you could donate anything, even $5 for this cause so I can walk in solidarity with other survivors, battlers, victims, I would appreciate it. Click here to donate.
This isn’t the event that I’m going to ask you to walk with me but if you’d like you can join my team and try and raise $1,800 yourself as well. I promise there will be an event that we can all walk together hand in hand and I’ll make you all wear my name all over your body but for this one if you could maybe just open your wallet a smidge? Is that trashy? I’m not sure how to do this. Either way I love you all and I’m glad we’re fighting together.
Until next time
xoxo
Kim
