Chemo Week 12 of 12!!!! 16 of 16 treatments completed.
ITšš»ISšš»OVERšš»!!!!
I wore these socks on day one. 16 treatments total over 5 months. I took pics at every treatment of my casual feet crossed and chill, but today I was a little rebellious.
Because of the threat of COVID-19, my sister, who has been there for every treatment was not allowed to come. She sat, masked, in a snack machine room down the hall and we skyped the whole time. Other people were allowed family members, those who had language barriers and very elderly who could not speak their own permission or ask their own questions. Only me and a very young girl in her early 20ās who started her first treatment for breast cancer today, were alone.
I was determined to make it every week. And my oncologist adopted a philosophy of āIf she walks in on her own power, sheās getting chemo.ā
And I did it every treatment. I never got sick. Never stopped eating. Never missed a treatment. My blood counts bounced back every week, and today they were the strongest they have been. Toward the end, these last 3 treatments, the effects have been progressively debilitating. I have increasing numbness in my hands and feet and today I feel like they filled my body with adamantium and Wolverine sunk me to the bottom of a fish tank. (Big Wolverine fan š„°)
But this is the last time that chemo will run my life. Next week, when my energy is coming back and my blood counts are returning to normal, I will not have to stop their progress with chemo.
On Wednesday, I met with my breast surgeon and I told her I chose no reconstruction. She said, āNow I can be honest with you because I couldnāt influence your decision. Itās the right thing to do. And the option to change your mind, will always be available to you down the road.ā
Then she did an ultrasound.
SHE COULDNāT FIND THE PIECE OF SHIT LITTLE TUMOR!!!! ITāS NOT THERE!!!!
She tried for 30mins to find it. I changed positions. I put my finger on the spot Iāve touched a trillion times!!! IT WASNāT THERE!!!
15 increasingly brutal nuclear treatments destroyed it!! And one last one for luck!
For now, the date is set for April 23rd. A 2-hour surgery that will change my body and my life. And Iām so fucking happy!!
Because of COVID-19, my city has been shut down. I live in Las Vegas. I was laid-off on Wednesday afternoon by an official mandate of the Governor. But my boss is paying my insurance premiums until I come back to work. There were times I wanted this man to be hit by a bus. Now I wish for nothing but his continued good health. ā¤ļøšāāļøš
Today, I was told that I would not be able to ring the bell, that it was discouraging to other patients because their journey was just beginning, or never ending. At the beginning of this last 12-week haul, that bell became my guiding light. My symbol of freedom.
Something happened in the infusion room, nurses were missing. The head nurse in particular. I was sad because she was the person who walked me through chemo before treatment began. She never sugar-coated anything. I like those kinds of people sometimes.
The machine they hook me up to, to automate the chemo delivery, has this annoying beeping sound when something goes wrong or when you are finished. And at one point, all the nurses disappeared and all the machines started beeping like a heinous mocking mantra.
I was on Twitter with @lustfulcat and Skype with my sister at the time.
@lustfulcat said āBE YASHIRO!!!ā
I got up, and dragged my IV pole to the BELL and I rang it.
āExcuse me! Service Please!!!ā
I had their attention now.
The endless beeping began again. My machine in particular was being a pain in the ass for my last day.
The bell became my personal consierge. I was going to ring it even if it was just to stand in protest.
I told the nurses who had become my friends over the course of my journey that this was the thing I fought to do at the end of my 12 weeks. So the first nurse I ever had, delayed my IV an extra 30 mins. And one by one, the patients in the room came by and said ācongratulationsā and I got to tell that young girl on her first day to ānever give up, to keep fighting and to know that her day is coming and to ring that bell even if she has to steal it and run down the hall. (That was the contingency plan BTW š)
With just a few people left, my sister came in, and all the nurses gathered.
āRing it as loud as you want,ā she said.
And my sister broke down in tears for the first time since this began. She has been by my side for the good news and the bad. She was deprived of some of the best news in the last few days because of the threat of COVID-19. News that she deserved to hear. She is exhausted. We arenāt an affectionate family, we are fighting women who suffer in slience. But she hugged me so tightly, and then we both cried.
My journey isnāt over, not by a long-shot, but a very big part of it is done. I will give you some advice from the trenches. Itās scarier to wait. Fear does more damage than chemo. Hair grows back. Eggs can be harvested. Breasts can be replaced (or not š). YOU CANāT BE REPLACED!!!! YOU ARE TOO IMPORTANT TO YOUR FAMILY, FRIENDS, MUTUALS, ME, AND TO EVERYONE WHO HAS STARED DOWN CANCER AND KICKED ITāS ASS!!!
Your chances of survival go up every minute you catch it early. If you are told you are ātoo youngā but you have a history in your family, demand a mammogram. If your doctor wonāt do it. Find the one that will! If you are over 40 and balking at your first mammogram, just do it!! The life it saves will be yours! If you are told you have dense breast tissue and the doctor doesnāt recommend an ultrasound, DEMAND IT!!!
Get to know what your breasts feel like. If something makes you say āwhat the fuck is that??ā Itās time to ask a doctor.
Donāt ever let them tell you no!! FIGHT!!!
Thank you EVERYONE who constantly cheered me on in public, in private, and unspoken. You have no idea how much you saved me.
Itās March 20th. The first day of the rest of my life; however long that is. I will choose hope over fear. For now... itās absolutely beautiful. š„°
In these most uncertain times. I offer you the calming words of a poet who also chose hope over fear:
The Chimes of Freedom - Bob Dylan
Far between sundown's finish and midnight's broken toll
We ducked inside a doorway as thunder went crashing
As majestic bells of bolts struck shadows in the sounds
Seeming to be the chimes of freedom flashing
Flashing for the warriors whose strength is not to fight
Flashing for the refugees on the unarmed road of flight
And for each and every underdog soldier in the night
And we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing
Through the city's melted furnace, unexpectedly we watched
With faces hidden as the walls were tightening
As the echo of the wedding bells before the blowing rain
Dissolved into the bells of the lightning
Tolling for the rebel, tolling for the rake
Tolling for the luckless, they abandoned and forsaked
Tolling for the outcast, burning constantly at stake
And we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing
Through the mad, mystic hammering of the wild ripping hail
The sky cracked its poems in naked wonder
As the clanging of the church bells blew far into the breeze
Leaving only bells of lightning and its thunder
Striking for the gentle, striking for the kind
Striking for the guardians and protectors of the mind
And the poet and the painter far behind his rightful time
And we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing
In the wild cathedral evening the rain unraveled tales
For the disrobed faceless forms of no position
Tolling for the tongues with no place to bring their thoughts
All down in taken-for-granted situations
Tolling for the deaf and blind, tolling for the mute
For the mistreated, mate-less mother, the mis-titled prostitute
For the misdemeanor outlaw, chained and cheated by pursuit
And we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing
Even though a cloud's white curtain in a far-off corner flared
And the hypnotic splattered mist was slowly lifting
Electric light still struck like arrows fired but for the ones
Condemned to drift or else be kept from drifting
Tolling for the searching ones on their speechless seeking trail
For the lonesome-hearted lovers with too personal a tale
And for each unharmful, gentle soul misplaced inside a jail
And we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing
Starry-eyed and laughing as I recall when we were caught
Trapped by no track of ours for they hang suspended
As we listened one last time and we watched with one last look
Spellbound and swallowed 'til the tolling ended
Tolling for the aching whose wounds cannot be nursed
For the countless confused, accused, misused, strung-out ones and worse
And for every hung-up person in the whole wide universe
And we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing
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