Hi friends and fam, It’s been a while since I’ve written an update, and I’ve gotten lots of questions recently, so here’s the latest: I’m officially done with chemotherapy! It is a massive relief to be able to say that. I know this is generally well-known, but chemo SUCKS. It’s so frustratingly debilitating, mentally draining, painful, tiresome, and arduous. And I had a relatively gentle chemo plan! 4 rounds, 3 weeks apart. There’s lots of different chemo drugs. I was on 2 different ones, neither of which is considered one of the especially bad chemo drugs. Despite this, I still experienced total hair loss, extreme bone pain, persistent fatigue, intense nausea, and agonizing ulcers in my mouth and throat. There’s “minor” side effects too, like dry eyes, inner ear pressure, fingernail damage, etc, etc, etc. The list truly feels neverending. The reason my plan was comparatively minimal is because chemo for me was about risk reduction, not treating an active tumor. My tumor was removed with my mastectomy back in August. So everything I’ve done since then and will do moving forward, including chemo, is in an effort to reduce the risk of the cancer coming back in future years. Chemo is a “global” treatment for this, essentially attempting to kill off any individual cancer cells left behind anywhere in my body. Which brings me to my next step: radiation. Radiation is localized, not global, which means it’s much more targeted. It involves zapping the area where my cancer was found, again in the hopes of killing any remaining cells too small to be detected through imaging. Because my cancer did leave the breast and make it to the lymph nodes, radiation will be targeting the lymph nodes not removed during my mastectomy. Basically, my right chest wall and armpit area will be getting a daily dose of radiation for 3 weeks. I’ve been told to expect fatigue and skin sensitivity or pain on the treated area, but not too much worse than that in terms of side effects. Radiation has been described to me as more of a nuisance than anything else, because I do have to get it EVERY day. The treatment itself is 5-10 minutes, but I have to drive 30-40 minutes to East Hollywood, fight for parking in the garage, check in at the desk, wait in the waiting room, change into the gown, get radiated, redress, exit the hospital, and drive home through the same 30-40 minutes of traffic. And I’ll feel tired and sunburned as a result. So again, compared to chemo, it’s nowhere near as impactful on the body, but it is more annoying in terms of the day-to-day rigamarole. I start next week, and my last day is February 17th. Afterwards, my oncologist wants me to take several weeks off from any treatment, which I’m grateful for. Because as good as I feel to be done with chemo, I’m very damaged by it. I’ve lost so much strength. When I walk Squeegee, I can only walk for about a mile, and very slowly. When I get on my stationary bike, I can only move at a very leisurely pace - no Cody Rigsby classes for me. When I go to concerts (which I did for the first time post-chemo last Friday!) I’m buying ADA seats, so I have a chair if I can’t stand for the whole set. I’m also masking because I’m still significantly immunocompromised, so it’s the responsible thing to do even though I don’t love it. BUT - and this is a big but - I *am* walking Squeegee. I *am* getting on the bike. I *am* going to see live music. Not every day, but when I can. I find that I can basically do one thing per day: I can walk Squeegee. I can get on the bike. I can go see live music. I can get dinner with a friend. I can go to the grocery store. I can cook a multistep meal. But only one of those things per day. Any more, and the fatigue hits hard. I’ll probably do a little less during radiation. But I’m excited to have those weeks off afterward. That’s when I plan to really strategically rebuild my strength and stamina. Which I’ll need, because after those few weeks, I’ll start my long-term endocrine therapy regimen. For me, this means 2 different daily prescriptions: one for 2 years, and one for 5-10 years. Both will come with side effects, especially the 2 year one, but my oncologist is optimistic they won’t hit me too hard. We’ll see. In the meantime, I’m working hard to change some lifestyle habits. I need to be very conscious of what I eat and drink. Fitness, once I’m well enough to exercise regularly, will need to be a big part of my life. I’m trying to be more reflective, introspective, and thoughtful, so I’m journaling. I’m also making future plans: I’m going to visit friends in Seattle in the spring, and I’m planning a longer euro-trip in the summer. It’s helpful to have some fun things on the calendar to look forward to. As always, I’m eternally grateful to YOU - everyone who has reached out in various ways these past 7 months since my diagnosis. Whether you’ve dropped off food, called to chat, had flowers or other gifts delivered, sent a card, asked to make plans, or sent a text - all of it makes a big difference. I continue to be humbled and overwhelmed by the love I’ve received. That has been the biggest lesson of all of this: what an incredible, generous, and beloved community I have. Frida Kahlo said, “At the end of the day, we can endure much more than we think we can,” and I’ve found that to be true, but with a caveat: At the end of the day, we can endure much more than we think we can - with the support of those who love us. Thank you, forever. __________________________________________________________________________ Hey everyone :) TL;DR: at the bottom. First and foremost, I want to say thank you. I am not especially comfortable asking for help. I like my independence. But these past few months, I have needed help. And all of you answered that call. It’s truly humbling how much support I felt (and still feel) from my community. I can’t say it enough: thank you so much. You’ve all contributed to my healing, and I am so grateful. I know many of you are eager for an update. The good news: my surgery was successful, and I’ve been healing really well. At this point, my pain is pretty minor, and I’ve been able to return to mostly-normal activity. Not quite pre-surgery level normal, but getting better. Unfortunately, there’s bad news too. During surgery, my medical team did find cancer in one lymph node. The lymph node was removed along with the cancerous tumor from my breast, but that’s not the end of it. There are likely individual cancer cells remaining in my body, so small that they can’t be detected through any means we currently have. That means I need additional treatment to reduce the risk of those remaining cells growing into more cancer in the future. This is especially crucial because if those cells grow into a recurrence of cancer, it is likely to return in the lung, liver, or bone, and if this happens, it’s typically Stage 4: treatable, but not curable. This was devastating news to receive, as you can imagine. I started to realize that this surgery, this massive, scary thing that I had just conquered, the biggest medical experience of my life so far - was actually just the beginning. Just one phase of a much longer, more serious ordeal than I had understood, up to that point. After weeks of waiting on test results, and meeting with three different oncologists with three different opinions on how to proceed, I finally have some clarity. My treatment plan is aggressive: chemotherapy, followed by radiation, followed by endocrine therapy. All of these treatments are to reduce the risk of recurrence. They are all going to suck. Chemotherapy is about 3 months. Radiation is another 3-4 weeks. Endocrine therapy is long-term (5-10 years). I get started in a few weeks. And my lifestyle has to change, too. My breast cancer is hormone-positive. This means I need to stop my body’s production of estrogen, which is where endocrine therapy comes in. But estrogen comes from a variety of sources, not just our own endocrine systems. Poor diet, lack of exercise, alcohol - even using the wrong type of cosmetic products - all of these impact estrogen production. All of the healthy habits that all of us should be practicing all the time - these are now non-negotiables for me. And that’s going to be true for the rest of my life, essentially. Right now, I’m in a narrow window where I've recovered well enough from surgery that I feel mostly normal, but I’ll only have a few weeks of normalcy before starting chemo treatment. And then I’ll really be in the shit. I’m honestly so terrified. I’m afraid of how I’ll feel. I’m afraid of how I’ll look. I’m afraid of the many, many side effects I may experience. I’m afraid some of them will be long-lasting. The most frustrating thing about all of this fear is that it will never truly go away. Even though I’ve elected a very aggressive treatment path, none of these treatments, alone or in combination, can reduce my risk of recurrence to zero. I’ll have to learn to live with that. But it sounds easier to live with if I know I chose the path that increased the odds in my favor as much as possible. And the truth is, I’m going to need more help: emotional, physical, financial, household - honestly, all of it. I don’t know exactly what this will look like, except maybe the money stuff. Thankfully, my insurance is good, and many of you were really generous when I first shared the news of my cancer, so financial stress hasn’t been much of an issue up until now. However, I am likely to miss out on 3 upcoming weeks of pay because of the way FMLA’s leave policy works around school breaks. I have a long wishlist again, filled with items recommended by my doctors and other patients via support message boards. I’ve reopened the meal train for the weeks I’m receiving chemo, starting November 3rd and continuing through January. I can manage these expenses without financial support, but not without significant effort, and I know people want to help. If you want to help me with the odds-and-ends costs, or the lost wages of nearly a month, the easiest way to do so is directly (venmo, zelle, cashapp, whatever). As for all of those other needs, I think the best thing you can do to support me is to just keep checking in. I’m not always going to be up for a visit or a phone call, but a text or a DM is always welcome, even if I don’t answer right away. And sometimes I will want that visit or call! It’s hard to predict what my social capacity will be, but I know I won’t mind a text to check and see how it’s going, or if I need anything specific at that time. A lot of my support is going to fall to Thomas, so check in with him too. On that note, I need to say publicly how unbelievably amazing a partner Thomas has been throughout this time. It’s cliche, but words really can’t communicate all he’s done for me. And I have no doubt that will continue throughout the duration of my treatments. I can’t imagine going through this without him. He’s patient and warm when all I can do is cry. He’s goofy when I need to smile. He’s thoughtful and quiet when he knows I need time to process something. He’s practical when Squeegee needs a walk, or the dishes need washing, or I need ice cream, like, right now. He’s even accommodating when all I want to do is mainline feel-good, formulaic TV like the Great British Bake-Off. What I’m going through is hard, but Thomas is going through it too, and the toll cancer takes on caretakers is uniquely fucked up in its own way. And he has been tireless in his care of me, despite that. Once again, I cannot say enough how grateful I am to all of you, for everything you’ve already done and anything you might do over the coming months. THANK YOU - for your direct support, for your understanding, for your check-in texts, for your offers of help at home, for all of it. As terrible and prolonged as this time is, I know it’s temporary, and all of your support really does help me get through it. I love you. TL;DR: My surgery went well, but I need aggressive treatment to limit my risk of serious recurrence. I’m doing chemo, radiation, and endocrine therapy, and starting very soon. I’m really unhappy about it, and scared, but it’s the best plan I have. If you want to help, I’m going to need financial support the most. I’m incredibly grateful to my entire community for EVERY form of help I’m receiving. Thank you so much. I love you.