What do you mean I haven’t blogged in months?!

This is my first blog post in MONTHS. What took so long? I blame Cancer. I can do that, because you know, Cancer. I’ll use it when I can, it’s the least I can get from this whole ordeal, am I right? I dare you to challenge me… I had Cancer.


Key word right there, did you catch it? HAD. I HAD Cancer. I can proudly say this because after months and months, and all the treatments/tests/surgeries under the sun… I have confirmed that I no longer have any Cancer in my body. It is a pretty epic thing to feel, say out loud and explain.


What’s crazier is that it still doesn’t feel real. It still doesn’t feel like this whole thing happened to me.


I am still having targeted hormone therapy, every three weeks until April 2020, and I still have another final reconstructive surgery ahead of me sometime in the winter next year. This is just to prevent a recurrence of the Cancer as much as we can. Overall, no more cancer.




Moving the EFF on. But what exactly does that even mean? People always say ‘time to move on’, ‘now you can move on’, and ‘Yay it’s finally over for you’. Is it though? Will it ever feel over? Is it possible to move on? No. Definitely no. The people who truly know what I mean are the people who have also had Cancer themselves.


The Cancer is constantly on my mind. Like, literally almost every single thought that goes through mind is somehow connected to Cancer in some way. Maybe it’ll fade over time, but right now it is still very present. Here are some examples:


Thought -> Cancer version


I’m making Kingsley’s lunch for her first day of school -> I’m tired, probably because of the Cancer related medication I’m taking


Today is the first day of school! -> Today is the first day of school, I can’t believe this time last year I was about to find out I had Cancer.


Seeing all my school mom friends -> I wonder what they think about my hair, I wonder if they remember I’m the mom that got Cancer?


I’m going to Starbucks to write my first blog post in months -> I wonder if the people beside my think I had chemo because I have short hair. The barista smiled at me sympathetically, I wonder if it’s because she thinks I had Cancer. I’m drinking a black Americano, I wonder if my heart will palpitate because I had my Herceptin treatment last week and sometimes caffeine effects that. I’m writing about Cancer. I feel like all I talk about is Cancer…


And so on.


And so forth.


I think you get it.


Point is, I’m hoping that this fades with time, because my brain hurts. Literally and figuratively… Maybe it’s because I think ALL the time. What’s next, what do I do now? What is life after Cancer going to be?


I guess I’ll find out.


What about wine & sex?

These were the only two things I had questions about when I met with the Oncology Pharmacist, back earlier this month after my chemotherapy treatment schedule had been officially put into motion. In all fairness, she had covered literally every other topic, question, and detail that existed. Except for what I considered to be important stuff, clearly.


My husband and I had about 34 minutes before I had to be at my next appointment at the hospital – I was practically putting in full work days leading up to my first treatment getting all of the diagnostic imaging they needed, my PICC line had to be inserted, I had to meet with multiple professionals for multiple different areas or specialty – it was long.


So we talked a mile a minute – totally my style – which helped make me completely comfortable to ask what I really wanted to know. I remember I looked at my husband, put my hand on his leg, and apologized to him saying  “Sorry, I have to ask… “ then turned my attention back to her and said “what’s going to happen to my sex drive?”.


What. Do you blame me? We’ve all seen the episode of Sex and the City where Samantha, who was also battling Breast Cancer, of all people – didn’t want to have sex with her hot, younger model boyfriend. If that isn’t concerning I don’t know what is… this is real life people.


First she told me it was a great question (gold star pat on the back for me!) and then smiled and told me the good news, that it probably wouldn’t change. As long as I’m feeling well, get it on. Not in those exact words. BUT, wear a condom and dear lord don’t get pregnant. Again I may have exaggerated her wording there, but that’s what I heard sooooo… On it.


My second question was about alcohol. Can I drink wine. How much wine. What about all of the wine. And here is the low down – I can definitely enjoy wine, and other beverages, with this in mind. I need to avoid alcohol a couple days before and after my treatments because alcohol and chemotherapy are both metabolised in the liver, and I need to save that important organ power for the chemo. Makes sense. After those days it slows down, and a couple of glasses won’t hurt.


Naturally, I asked “What about a whole bottle, or more? When can that happen?” She was very professional, barely smiled and told me that when a ‘party situation’ comes up, here are the best days for that – check! Noted, memorized, and good day mam. The more you know. Am I right?


After my next couple of appointments were over, I went home with a handful of prescriptions, all the knowledge in the world, and quickly ordered two boxes of condoms off Amazon. Because no matter how old you get that shit can still be so awkward at the Shoppers Drugmart. Admit it.

The Cancer.

So, I have Breast Cancer. Turns out that is a thing that can actually happen to you, at the age of 33, seemingly out of nowhere. As I sit here and type my first blog post on the subject, it still feels incredibly strange that this is happening. It doesn’t feel real. And by that I mean exactly what it sounds like… it simply doesn’t feel like it’s happening to me.

I’ve had a bilateral mastectomy, with partial reconstruction – my body is forever changed – plus I have chemotherapy – what most would consider to be the scariest and worst medical treatment out there – currently running through my bloodstream – and it still doesn’t feel real. I’m in a place where every day I just do what I have to do what’s next, and then I wake up again the next day and do whatever is next again. I’ve been calling it business as usual, except I have a new usual.

The new usual consists of me making it my full time job to do everything I can to get me out of this situation, in the best shape possible. Visits to the hospital and clinics are now a part of my job, taking medication on a meticulous schedule is now a part of my job, arranging for childcare, taking care of administrative crap, dealing with insurance companies, home nursing and managing my symptoms are now all just a part of my full time job.

I’ve definitely had better gigs in my day, but never a more important one. So here I am, making the best of a difficult situation, taking it all one day at a time and focusing on maintaining a positive mindset through and through. That’s my plan, that’s my job, and this is my life.