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

The past few days have been absolutely fantastic. Matt took me to Half Moon Bay for an overnight getaway to celebrate the halfway point on Thursday. We stayed at this nice little Inn right on the beach. I've always loved everything about the ocean, especially falling asleep to the sound of waves crashing, so it was just what I needed to relax and rejuvenate. We had a delicious dinner out (basil pesto risotto with scallops - thank GOD the chemo didn't mess with those flavors!!) and I even had a glass of wine! I wasn't planning on drinking until I finished treatment in June..but I decided I deserved one glass. Apparently wine is one of those things that can taste bad while on Cytoxin. And seeing how my taste buds have been all crazy lately I was scared to ruin one of my favorite drinks. But lucky for me, wine still tastes great! On Friday we had the best surprise - a visit from my cousin Justin and his wife Annie. They live in NY and are out here for the weekend for the Big

Round 4 was like my own personal horror movie. It wasn't as bad as Round 1, but close. I'm not sure if it's because I got cocky again and assumed since I was done with the AC infusion I would just breeze through the week, or what. But I feel like I had a 4 day go round with Freddy Kreuger. I wasn't doing so bad, and then the chemo bitch slapped me. Over and over and over again. Besides the tornado that was raging in my head, I was getting really dizzy and lightheaded every time I stood up. My heart was racing, and my anxiety was at a peak. Acupuncture on Saturday didn't help at all, and I was starting to get that hopeless feeling again - that I was NEVER going to have another good day... Sunday was the first day I felt somewhat normal. We enjoyed a really nice Easter at Matt's aunt's house. I still wasn't fully functioning though, and by Sunday night the girls and I were all a bit emotionally unstable. The girls have too much Easter candy to blame it o

I hate cancer. I hate chemo. I hate feeling this horrible for a few days every two weeks. Quite frankly, I don't even want to hear how it's "just a few days" and that "it could be worse" or whatever. I know all that...and I still hate it. I've spent the past 36 hours feeling like my brain is a trailer park and there is a tornado wreaking havoc throughout it. I hate that my body looks like a serial killer hacked at it (sorry, Dr. Awesome, you did the best you could..but really, a scar from hip to hip is NEVER pretty). I hate that I lay here, unable to focus on anything, yet my mind races about all sorts of stuff. Like the fact that not all my hair has fallen out. So does that mean the chemo isn't working?! Because I'll be damned if I'm doing this for nothing. I hate that nothing tastes good to eat or drink, yet I keep trying everything in sight, hoping that something will taste decent. Why can't I just kick back and enjoy a little weight

Today is Matt's 36th birthday. I hate that his special day falls on one of my really bad days. I'm stuck in bed with my foggy chemo brain, and he's still waiting on me hand and foot. He's also about to take Reagan to lunch and a movie which makes me happy - there's nothing like a good daddy/daughter day as I know first hand from dates with my own dad. This post may get a bit mushy, but I'm going to blame that on the chemo too. Matt and I aren't big on public affection, we don't declare our love on each other's Facebook pages, and we make fun of each other at every possible opportunity. Yet this world became a much better place 36 years ago today. Matt is hands down the most wonderful person I've ever met, and I am honored that I get to spend my life with him and raise our children together. I think that our girls are such lucky ladies to have him as their daddy. He's had just as rough a year as I have, and he's handled everything with

I'm slowly sinking into chemo hell again. I know the drill though, so it does make it easier in some ways. It's definitely not a feeling I will ever get used to though. It sucks each and every time. But knowing that this time is the last of the red devil does make it easier in a sense this week. I keep hearing how the Taxol will be easier on me. I certainly hope that's the truth. I just think back to how the night before my very first treatment I felt so sure I was going to rock this whole chemo thing. I still felt like superwoman - I was going to show the chemo who was boss. And then it knocked me on my ass. So I'm afraid to go into the Taxol rounds assuming anything to be honest. Once again, Matt's been the best nurse this week. Except I think I'm wearing him out in one regard. We can't find a drink that I can handle. That whole weird metallic taste thing is really coming out now. Not a single thing tastes good to drink..yet I'm thirsty all the tim

I'm finally here - the halfway point! There were moments I never thought this day would come. But here I am. Done with the Red Devil. Done with the Neulasta. It's amazing how in retrospect, time really does fly. I remember laying around crying and feeling like I literally could not do this again after Round 1. Chris and Hannah spent their one week vacation in CA watching me at my lowest of lows. Cheering me on and reminding me daily that I can, and have to, carry on. Thankfully for them they got to recuperate for 2 weeks in Tahiti and Bora Bora afterwards though! Treatment yesterday was one of the better ones. They found a vein on the first try this time. The only excitement was when I was jolted awake by an earthquake that shook the building. It was just a small one, but enough to excite the room. Personally, I love a nice small earthquake every now and again. But I tend to be in the minority on that one. I got to see the girls tonight for a little bit before Matt took th

Here I am, so close to the halfway point, yet so nervous still for tomorrow. I can't wait to be done with the red devil, let alone this whole "experience," but yet I am more anxious about tomorrow's infusion than any other one to date. I think it's partly because I hate going from feeling so good, to so bad in just hours. I hate that when I tucked the girls into bed tonight, I thought that it will be about a week before I can kiss them goodnight and put them to bed again. My left wrist is still bruised in two spots from the failed attempts to start an IV last time...I'm certainly not looking forward to being poked and prodded again tomorrow. I feel like these treatments are getting harder and harder on my psyche, let alone my body. Even though the reality is that each one brings me closer to the end. But no matter how much I loathe it, I know tomorrow is coming quickly. And I know that one week from today, I'll be back on the upswing and will hopefully n

Yesterday we had some errands to run so we decided to make a family night out of it. After we finished, we went out to eat. The girls were both on their best behavior and being extra cute. Reagan had Career Day at school so she was still wearing her Snow White costume. I saw an older couple watching us a bit and I assumed they were just thinking "Oh, what adorable girls they have! How lucky they are.." or whatnot. Then the couple came over to our table on their way out. The woman asked me where I got my scarf from. I told her I had ordered it online and then awkwardly paused. I wasn't sure if I should tell her that it was from a company that seems to cater to cancer patients - (even though I don't really know if they do or not, I just assume it since I bought mine from them and the models were all bald!) Anyway, I just mentioned the name of the website and nothing further. She then asked me if I was in chemotherapy. I said "yes!"  and she replied that she wa

After my last post, I talked to a few people and got some emails from loved ones which detailed their beliefs on the "why me" theory. A lot of what's been said has really made an impact on me. I spent last week thinking this happened to me for some mysterious reason. Maybe I did something bad and needed a wake up call. Maybe I could use this time to change who or how I am to become better. But to be honest... I wasn't a bad person before. I was perfectly fine- nothing spectacular, but not too shabby either. Maybe, as the saying goes: shit happens. Maybe, just maybe, sometimes bad things happen to good people for no reason other than the fact that this is life. The more I think about it, the more I think that maybe this is truly the case. Why did my Mom and my two aunts suffer from this same disease? They are and were all such wonderful women..they didn't do anything "bad" to deserve this. They didn't need to learn a lesson about life and love. So, I

I had been able to avoid thinking these two little words since my diagnosis. Sadly though, as I lay here this afternoon feeling totally crushed by this weeks chemo, this phrase finally made it's way into my thoughts. As I lay here crying, I tried to power through by plugging my iPod in and waiting for Cee Lo to take me to another place. But today, neither Cee Lo, nor Adele, nor Pink, or any of my other old standbys were working. I kept going back to "why ME?"   It overwhelmed me, both the question of "why me," and the embarrassment I felt at actually thinking this. Why NOT me? What makes me any different from any other woman? Why should I NOT have to go through this, and someone else should? I absolutely don't feel that at all...so why would I even let this nasty little thought into my head? But since it wouldn't go away, I had to analyze it, of course. Some would say that overanalyzation is my specialty, and I wouldn't want to let anyone down. I&#

I feel like a yo-yo, I've decided. One minute (or day), I'm up..the next I'm down. Then I bounce back up, only to be catapulted back down again. Last weekend, and most of last week, were so great!! I felt amazing and had such a good time with my family. Reagan had her first solo visit with my parents in Sacramento, which she absolutely loved. And we had a nice visit on Sunday when we went to pick her up.  Saturday was spent visiting a very good high school friend, Holly, who has been one of my biggest cheerleaders these past few months. Her texts, gifts, and now visit have made me relish in the beauty of life and friendships. And, I must say I'm now totally in love with her son, Michael, and hope that he and Charlie do in fact get married some day. They seem to be well on their way with her stripping down to her diaper for him, and him rubbing her belly and saying "belly" repeatedly. But then my bliss came to a crashing halt yesterday during Round 3.

Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair Fuzzy Wuzzy wasn't very fuzzy, now was he? This little poem has been said a lot in our house over the past few weeks. Ever since Matt and I shaved our hair, the girls love saying this as they rub our heads. Matt took a razor to his head from the beginning so he hasn't had any fuzz this whole time. But I still had the buzz cut look/feel going on...until Wednesday that is. In the shower on Wednesday most of it just came out in my hands. My palms were covered in tiny hairs every time I rubbed my head. Little black hairs just swirling down the drain. I thank GOD that we shaved it. I couldn't imagine how horrible that would have been to have clumps and clumps of hair just come out in the shower. I totally get it now why they recommend cutting hair really short before this happens. Not to mention what a plumber would have cost us to have to get the drain unclogged.