Not so much. It used to be everywhere. I mean everywhere. And now it’s gone.
Give me down to there hair, shoulder length or longer
Flow it, show it, long as God can grow it, my hair.
It will grow back curly, so I am told.
Let’s talk side effects. A quick rundown. Headache, nausea, neuropathy, cramps, constipation, diarrhea, back spasms, mouth sores and numbness, nosebleeds, constant nasal drip – then the skin peels under my nose and lips. As that’s not enough then my hands burn as if I had 3rd degree burns, they peel and are beet red. Eyes tear, blurred vision – not from the vodka. A salty taste in my mouth that never fades and did I mention I’m emotional? 😭 Last but certainly not least is hair loss. Ouch! And just as I am feeling better, it’s time to go again.
Thanks Carboplatin, Taxitiera, Herceptin, Projeta and last but not least Nuelasta. You have replaced my vodka. Every 3 weeks for 18 weeks. 7 hours of iv’s. 😒 Then I get 1 iv every 3 weeks for the rest of a year! Yeah! See, it could always be worse.
I prefer Stoli any day of the week. Neet please! 🍸
It’s been 6 months since my biopsy and my head is still spinning. Since I felt the lump and already had an appointment for my annual mammogram two weeks prior to that, the words “you have Breast Cancer” somehow did not shock me.
I promised not to let this get the best of me so I started lining up my doctors, met with specialists, told my husband, my daughters and their families, my sisters and my mom. My support team. My family.
I had a plan. I wanted to have my double mastectomy, and be on the road to recovery before I told anyone else. No offense but I did not want to hear anyone’s opinion on what doctors to see, hospital to use etc. especially horror stories about someone I did not know.
Positive I say. Stay positive. Someone else’s mishaps would only bring me down. Look 👀 forward – stay focused. In my late fathers words, “be strong, you can do this” is all I focused on.
Then the shit hit the fan.
Yeah you heard me, I have Breast Cancer. December 16th, the day of my mastectomy, that would be the start of me being CANCER FREE. Well, maybe. If I did chemotherapy to ensure this awful disease would never return. Against my better judgement and something I vowed I would never do, it seemed to be the right choice. At 57, with a lifetime ahead of me and 4 beautiful granddaughters I caved!
This is the post excerpt.