My "Mamm"wars: Fighting to Survive Stage 4 Breast Cancer

During the past 3 months I've learned just how special my girlfriends are. I mean, I've always known that I've got some of the best friends around, but so many of them have really made an effort to cheer me up, help us out, or offer support in any way they can. Our mailbox is often full with wonderful cards from family, friends, coworkers, and people that only know of me through others. Words will never be able to express how much this means to me, and how much this truly lifts my spirits. Between our amazing families and friends, I really feel like I've got a whole team supporting me through this. It helps my morale, but it also makes me want to fight harder - I can't let my team down now can I?! But over these past 3 months, I've also met a whole new clan of friends too. My "cancer friends" as I usually label them when I talk to anyone about them. These are other breast cancer survivors about my age that I've met through family and friends, a

That's how old I feel. I'm exhausted all the time and my hips, thighs and back are so sore. It takes me a good 20 minutes to get moving every morning. I think of my 95 year old Grandma every day and how she could run circles around me. Although, she could do that before I started chemo so that analogy really doesn't mean anything. I had my second "how did chemo go" appointment this morning and I learned once again that all of this is perfectly normal. For some reason I handle all of the side effects better once I get reassurance that 1. it's normal, and 2. it will all end once chemo is over. But, an appointment wouldn't be an appointment if I didn't leave with another prescription. This time we discussed my inability to fall asleep on my own these days. I wake up tired, am exhausted all day long, and can't wait until a reasonable hour to go to bed, yet once I'm there I lay awake with my mind racing. I told the nurse how I rely on Tylenol PM a

I feel like I'm finally recovering from my week long hangover. Matt and I decided that's exactly what chemo side effects mimic - a giant hangover. Except cancer patients don't get the fun that leads up to the pain. There are no funny stories we can relive that help us chuckle our way through the agony. Just headaches, nausea, and a fuzzy/cloudy headed sensation that lasts for 3-4 days. I really shouldn't complain though. Compared to round 1, this week was relatively easy (so far). We managed the nausea much better, so our plan worked in that regard! I think the lower steroid dosage definitely helped my mood swings/depression this time too. I started to feel weepy last night, but it didn't last too long - and I also figure that I am entitled to being a bit weepy now and again so I'm not going to beat myself up about that. I'm still waiting for the Neulasta to kick me in my butt... or my spine actually. I started feeling the tingling sensation a bit today,

Round 2 went off without a hitch yesterday. It took longer because they dripped the Cytoxin slower so I wouldn't get a headache. And it worked. They also cut my steroid dosage a lot, so hopefully I won't experience that horrible crashing and emotional upheaval later this week! But throughout the whole infusion, my hair kept shedding. If I ran my hands through it, more and more strands were coming out. Matt had to keep brushing the fallen strands off of my shirt. I told Reagan I would wait to shave my head until the medicine made it come out. And it's clear the medicine had started it's magic. So we decided to take matters into our own hands last night. Pat and Jess came over with their clippers and Matt, Pat and I all shaved our heads. It's amazing to me that my husband and brother in law would do this. Granted, Pat shaves his head a lot, so he had an advantage in knowing he wasn't going to look stupid! But Matt's poor head hasn't seen the light of day

21 has always been my lucky number. It's a number that just seems to always pop up in my life. My birthday is on May 21st. Matt, my lucky charm, also was born on the 21st - of April. It's silly, I know.. but I just always like to think fondly of the number 21. Ironically enough, my dooblay was two months ago today- on January 21. I like to think that's the day I became cancer free so of course that's a lucky day! And here we are today - March 21. That means it has to be a good day, right? Round 2 on my lucky number day!? If nothing else, it means we are halfway through the Red Devil. The rest of this week may or may not be bad. But I will know that I have 2 rounds down, and 2 (of the AC) left to go. I know that I am 25% done with the entire chemo regimen after today. And for that, I'm going to feel lucky.

I've been feeling decent since Wednesday, and psyching myself up for Round 2. Now that it's here, I feel like the past two weeks flew by. I was beginning to feel ready for tomorrows infusion - even looking forward to getting another one under my belt - but the pit in my stomach is still there. I'm definitely more calm than I was in the days leading up to the first infusion, but I get the feeling it's never going to be easy. Matt and I held a brief strategy session the other night, discussing what we're going to do differently this time. I'm hopeful that with our new plan this coming week won't be so bad. In hindsight, I waited too long to take the anti nausea drugs last time. I would wait until I felt sick. This time I'm going to take the Zofran round the clock just in case.  It also really helps knowing that I will eventually come out of the haze. Having had a good run this week, I'll be able to hold onto that in the bad days going forward. Jay

So many people have been advising me lately that I should cut my hair really short to prepare for when it falls out. Which, by the way, should be next Tuesday or Wednesday per my oncologist and nurse. Finally I caved yesterday and made an appointment for my last hair cut for a long while. I asked Reagan if she wanted to come along, and of course she did! We met Jess there and I let her have free reign along with the stylist. They decided on cutting it like Halle Berry. I'm not sure what's more funny..the fact that I clearly don't look like Halle Berry so I can't pull off her hairdo, or that the hairstylist was absolutely not even pretending that it looked good. In his defense, when I told him we had to cut it super short he immediately balked...like every single hairdresser I have ever been to does. We told him why I needed it short and so of course he complied. I even told him that I didn't expect it to look good and I didn't expect any sort of miracle from

I went to bed last night finally feeling a bit of relief. I had my little bottle of happy pills on the counter ready to be popped this morning, and I felt lighter and more hopeful than I had in days. Matt woke me up when he got home from work around 3 am, and that's when I first felt the stiffness in my hips. It was more of a dull ache, the same pain I felt the day after the Neulasta shot. Except it kept getting more intense. By 7 am when I got up to get Reagan ready for school it was in full force. I could barely walk or bend down without massive pain. After Reagan left for school it continued to get worse - now shooting up my spine. I started having a panic attack and couldn't stop crying (yet again). Matt called the doctors at 9 when they opened and they confirmed that it was the side effects of the Neulasta. MAN, I thought I escaped the bad side effects from that shot. Seriously.. they gave it to me a week ago. WHY was this happening now?! Turns out it's totally nor

The past week has taken more out of me than anything I could ever imagine. It wasn't just the infusion and the subsequent days of sickness/nausea. It's been the overwhelming anxiety and depression that has hit me simultaneously. Man, I was really not expecting this. For the past few days, I can't control my crying, feel totally inept as a mom, and just want to sleep all day. It reached a pinnacle over the weekend and I knew something was drastically wrong. Where was the girl who was going to rock chemo? Where'd she go?! And who was this blubbering mess left in her place? So first thing this morning I called the Cancer Center and got an appointment with my nurse, Suzanne. I was so lucky to get an appointment this morning. My wonderful Matt drove me there, reassuring me the whole time. Sure enough...she confirmed that I'm totally normal for a young woman recently diagnosed with cancer. Apparently it's not possible to just breeze through a doublay and chemo witho

So here I am, 4 days out of chemo infusion #1, and I have to say...it SUCKS. I have never been so tired, so nauseous, and so just out of it in my life. I'm not going to lie... I dread...like seriously DREAD having to do this 7 more times. Of course I have no choice. Somehow I'll muster through it..but I am not looking forward to it one freaking bit. Can someone please develop a time warp and make it be June already??

I just woke up on Day 3 with massive soreness around my hips and thighs. Thanks, Neulasta..you sure didn't go easy on me. Although, from horror stories I've read, I guess I do have it easier than some. It feels like I rode a bicycle all night long. The fact that the nausea is in full force this morning is not making it an easy way to start the day. But I'm loaded up with drugs, and hope to feel a bit better soon. It's funny how the person who hated taking pills before is now scoping out what time I can take what pain relievers at. At least I am done with the first round of anti nausea drugs (the Emend) today, and only one more day of the steroid. Hopefully by Friday I'll be back to normal. Sadly though, even though this round hasn't been too tough on my yet... I'm already dreading the next 1. Or 7. blech. But.... I do have a huge thank you to send to the O'Brien cousins for cheering me up last nigh with a hilarious singing telegram! And to my won

I'm not even sure how to describe what I feel like now. Yesterday was very emotionally charged and relatively uneventful. The infusion itself was a breeze. The only pain I felt was the tiny prick of the IV going in. The nurse gave me anti nausea drugs and steroids first. Then we went into the red devil - the Adrymiacin. There were 2 vials of it that my nurse, Amy, had to hold and slowly inject into the vein. It's very important the drug does not escape the vein at all, so we had to keep careful eye out for any pain in my forearm. The fact that Amy was wearing rubber gloves due to the toxicity of the drug made me a bit creeped out too. But we whipped through the two vials, and then were on to the last bag of cytoxen that was hung from the IV. The whole think lasted maybe 1.5 hours. I left not knowing how to feel really... I mean this stuff hits fast - the adrymiacin made my urine turn pink immediately, and the cytoxen gave me a nasty headache. To be honest, that was the worst

The big day is finally here, and I'm surprisingly calm today. I woke up (yes! I totally slept well last night!!) to a text from my best friend Airen, reminding me that today is just another step closer to being well and leaving cancer behind. It's exactly what I needed. Then I logged onto Facebook to find a few more messages from my fabulous cousins. Today is not a bad day. Today is another day closer to be being healthy and DONE with cancer treatments. I'm going to rock this today. Although, really, I just have to sit there..and pretty much anyone can do that. But I'm ready for this. I'm ready to let the drugs find and burn any stray cancer cells left. Go get em' red devil!!

I waited all week, and finally got the call yesterday morning. Chemo starts Monday at 10 am. As soon as I hung up the phone I completely broke down. It's a good thing Reagan was home as I refuse to let her see me cry, because that's the only reason I was able to get it together quickly. I feel stupid for crying about it. I knew it was coming for 2 months now. I even say that I want it to start sooner so it can end sooner. But now that it's official, it means it's really happening. I am about to start looking like a cancer patient, when I don't feel like one. I feel AWESOME these days. But then again, I felt awesome leading up to my biopsy in December. I felt awesome leading up to my surgery in January.. I've never once felt sick. So I have a hard time accepting that I am willingly making myself look and feel sick for the next 16 weeks. But then I look at my girls, or Matt gives me a hug, and it all comes flooding back about why I am doing this. I am NOT about

I've said before how fortunate I am to be part of such an amazing family - on both sides. And they have all shown me once again just how wonderful they all are. Matt's cousins, Maggie and Amy, have walked several times before in the 2 day Avon Walk for Breast Cancer.  Every year we donate to their team, or attend fundraising dinners. Every year we say how we could never do it and how wonderful they are for walking such a long distance for such a great cause. This year they are walking again. And this year their team grew by several people: my Dad, my mother in law Colleen, Matt's Aunt Nell, and Matt's cousin Megan. (In addition to a few other dedicated walking friends!) On July 9-10, Team RackStar will don orange shirts and walk up to a marathon the first day, followed by a half marathon the second day. Sometimes I think I have the easy role- just hanging out in my chemo chair for a few hours every 2 weeks.... That is a LOT of walking they signed up for. This caus

The old saying about the waiting being the hardest part is so true. I learned that early on when I had to wait 4 days from diagnosis to initial Dr. appointment. And now I'm stuck waiting again... for my exact chemo start date. We met with my nurse practitioner, Suzanne, on Monday. She gave me another binder (this is my second official "cancer information binder" now) with all of the chemo information - what each drug does, when to call in an emergency, a calendar to write in all of my infusion days, shot dates, and Dr. appointments, prescriptions, etc. We went over all possible side effects, and toured the facility. Everyone there is very nice, and the recliners that I'll be "relaxing" in for 4 hours every 2 weeks seem great. I kept thinking that as great as that all was..the fact remains that the next 16 weeks are going to be very difficult. But the truly great thing is that although all of this is going to be hard..it's all for a very, very, very g