Two more Herceptin treatments.
TWO MORE!
Herceptin isn't a huge deal in terms of side effects but it's a nuisance and a constant reminder that I'm still in treatment.
It means I still have my port in.
It means I'm still trekking into the cancer center.
Just a public service announcement:
Please do not eat a smelly breakfast when accompanying someone to infusions.
We are so sensitive to smells and your food in the waiting room makes us want to barf.
Love you being there for your friend but lose the eggs.
When in doubt; choose the granola bar.
You're welcome.
While I'm at my words of wisdom
If you are a medical assistant accompanying someone back to their infusion room, please wait for them and do not walk 30 steps in front.
It's rude and there are many rooms and if we cannot see you, we do not know where to go.
Just a tip.
And smile. We don't like being there more than you may hate your job.
To prove that I'm a regular, I sit down for my vital signs.
I stick out my left hand to put the oxygen thingie on my finger and raise my right arm for the blood pressure cuff all the while opening my mouth up; awaiting the thermometer. Simultaneously taking off my shoes in preparation for the worst part of it all...
the weigh in.
I know. I'm impressive.
I don't even flinch anymore when I see the dreaded numbers pop up on the scale because I'm just so far over caring.
I'm in yoga pants for the rest of my life anyways due to minor complications from reconstruction surgery and am almost positive that being on damned cancer preventative drugs for the next 1735 days is going to prevent me from any possible weight loss unless I, you know, exercise but why go there?
Relax health nuts.
Kidding.
Kind of.
(For those who know me IRL, yea, I know. Not really)
On the upside it's almost 2018.
Dick Clark (RIP) (Ryan Seacrest, whatever), Chinese food and falling asleep before midnight.
Yup.
You are in my reach.
I leave you with what I've come to terms with.
You have no control over many things.
Many, many things.
You do have control over how you react to said things. How you deal with them.
Has Cancer changed me? (I've been asked)
I've said before I like to think I was kind and pretty cool before cancer but now I'm just a bit more kind, a little more of "live in the moment" (yet still cool- obviously!) and a tad more patient.(Emphasis on the TAD) My eyes and heart are open wider and I've prioritized a bit more.
Figured out what really goes to the bottom of the totem pole.
I already knew this but it was just confirmed that I have some pretty kick ass friends.
And my solid as a rock husband (who really has been through the ringer with me) by my side-every step.
Cancer really really sucks and there's no way around that.
If you have a loved one going through it just remember that people heal differently and what works for one may not work for another. Be patient with us and just be there when we need you to be.
And when you hear that you are in that 5% and say "of course I am because that's how my life goes" and then you look at your oldest son and think back to when life really really really sucked in his early years and you think..
Yea, okay. This could actually get better.
It's gotta get better.
Join me in kicking 2017 to the curb
(unless it was a really great year for you and in that case, I'm sorry for you but SO FREAKING happy for me)
I welcome you 2018
with gigantic open arms
I even am (somewhat) embracing this is my year to turn 50.
(Because the 40's kind of sucked health wise)
My dear village peeps..
I am (most importantly) wishing you health
followed by many days of soaking up the sun by the beach
making memories with those you love
times that allow you to curl up with a good book or a long walk along the Marginal Way (in Ogunquit, Maine. please go if you haven't. It's my happy place)
and lots of laughter.
And of course, some cake...
so that you can eat the frosting first.
xo
TWO MORE!
Herceptin isn't a huge deal in terms of side effects but it's a nuisance and a constant reminder that I'm still in treatment.
It means I still have my port in.
It means I'm still trekking into the cancer center.
Just a public service announcement:
Please do not eat a smelly breakfast when accompanying someone to infusions.
We are so sensitive to smells and your food in the waiting room makes us want to barf.
Love you being there for your friend but lose the eggs.
When in doubt; choose the granola bar.
You're welcome.
While I'm at my words of wisdom
If you are a medical assistant accompanying someone back to their infusion room, please wait for them and do not walk 30 steps in front.
It's rude and there are many rooms and if we cannot see you, we do not know where to go.
Just a tip.
And smile. We don't like being there more than you may hate your job.
To prove that I'm a regular, I sit down for my vital signs.
I stick out my left hand to put the oxygen thingie on my finger and raise my right arm for the blood pressure cuff all the while opening my mouth up; awaiting the thermometer. Simultaneously taking off my shoes in preparation for the worst part of it all...
the weigh in.
I know. I'm impressive.
I don't even flinch anymore when I see the dreaded numbers pop up on the scale because I'm just so far over caring.
I'm in yoga pants for the rest of my life anyways due to minor complications from reconstruction surgery and am almost positive that being on damned cancer preventative drugs for the next 1735 days is going to prevent me from any possible weight loss unless I, you know, exercise but why go there?
Relax health nuts.
Kidding.
Kind of.
(For those who know me IRL, yea, I know. Not really)
On the upside it's almost 2018.
Dick Clark (RIP) (Ryan Seacrest, whatever), Chinese food and falling asleep before midnight.
Yup.
You are in my reach.
I leave you with what I've come to terms with.
You have no control over many things.
Many, many things.
You do have control over how you react to said things. How you deal with them.
Has Cancer changed me? (I've been asked)
I've said before I like to think I was kind and pretty cool before cancer but now I'm just a bit more kind, a little more of "live in the moment" (yet still cool- obviously!) and a tad more patient.(Emphasis on the TAD) My eyes and heart are open wider and I've prioritized a bit more.
Figured out what really goes to the bottom of the totem pole.
I already knew this but it was just confirmed that I have some pretty kick ass friends.
And my solid as a rock husband (who really has been through the ringer with me) by my side-every step.
Cancer really really sucks and there's no way around that.
If you have a loved one going through it just remember that people heal differently and what works for one may not work for another. Be patient with us and just be there when we need you to be.
And when you hear that you are in that 5% and say "of course I am because that's how my life goes" and then you look at your oldest son and think back to when life really really really sucked in his early years and you think..
Yea, okay. This could actually get better.
It's gotta get better.
Join me in kicking 2017 to the curb
(unless it was a really great year for you and in that case, I'm sorry for you but SO FREAKING happy for me)
I welcome you 2018
with gigantic open arms
I even am (somewhat) embracing this is my year to turn 50.
(Because the 40's kind of sucked health wise)
My dear village peeps..
I am (most importantly) wishing you health
followed by many days of soaking up the sun by the beach
making memories with those you love
times that allow you to curl up with a good book or a long walk along the Marginal Way (in Ogunquit, Maine. please go if you haven't. It's my happy place)
and lots of laughter.
And of course, some cake...
so that you can eat the frosting first.
xo
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