Monday, January 24, marked exactly two weeks after my first round of chemotherapy.   I looked in the mirror while combing the little hair I had on top of my head after I cut it. While it still shocked me to see my hair so short, “My hair still looks good, healthy” I thought. “Maybe, I will be one of the lucky ones who doesn’t have my hair fall out with chemo.” I secretly hoped. Well, I jinxed myself.  That very afternoon my hair started falling out in chunks. I had a piece of

BREAST FRIEND Let me start off by saying my tribe of friends is phenomenal, like the most loyal, compassionate and fun-loving bunch a girl could ask for.  Thanks girls, I love you! I wasn’t really looking to add to my tribe but I wasn’t actively not looking, (This sounds like a dating situation, doesn’t it?:)) but then there was Amy.  Her willingness to share with me intimate details of her journey and hold space for me to process mine felt like something out of a movie.   “L

The two weeks leading up to my first cycle of chemotherapy were quite busy.  I met with my surgical oncologist, had a bone scan, took out my intrauterine device (IUD), had an echocardiogram, cut my hair and established care with an oncology dietician.   I consumed all the information they shared with me as well as started down the research rabbit hole to ensure that everything that I was doing was evidence-based and current best practice. I wasn’t just going to kick cancer’s

As challenging as it was to get through the holidays not knowing if they were going to be my last, I got to spend time with my family.   Somehow, we made it through.   We opted to think positive, and take a more careful approach to how we celebrated Christmas.   We spent Christmas Eve day with only my parents and grandma.   Lincoln and Maya were a little disappointed they couldn’t play for hours with their cousins, but they understood what the goal was, “Keep Mom safe.  Don’t

So there I was, in limbo for FIVE long days and nights not knowing if this cancer diagnosis was going to be just a chapter in my book of life or THE FINAL   chapter, THE END.    I must caution you, the reader, that this post was the hardest and most gut wrenching one to write.   When faced with the possibility that you might not get to finish this life in physical form with those you love, the mind goes DARK, pitch black...you can’t see your way out but instead have to FEEL y

December 20 - 28th, 2021 I have so many thoughts and things to share with regards to the week after finding out that I had breast cancer, but before I get to those I want to provide the following warnings:   Some of the experiences and thoughts I am about to share may be triggering and difficult to hear. Proceed with caution. Our national healthcare system and the processes that govern it are broken.   While I share with you my personal experience navigating through the broke

The weekend was impossible to get through, trying to remain positive that perhaps the Radiologist was wrong but knowing deep down that this cancer has been growing inside me for nearly three years.  I went back through my notes in Mychart from my past appointments thinking maybe I missed something…NOPE. Just good ‘ol “DENSE BREAST TISSUE” everywhere. I then did the thing that everyone tells you not to do…I went onto the Internet. I had the Radiologist’s notes from the biopsy

On the night of December 16, I didn’t sleep a wink.  Not a f***ing wink.   I replayed the last two and a half years over and over in my mind, here is how it went: “Okay, I stopped nursing Maya at the end of July 2018.  Boobs felt different but waited to see if my hormones would calm down after a few months.” “Okay, fast forward and it's February 2019.  It’s snowing outside, I’m shoveling and I noticed both breasts hurt.  I go inside the house, I take a shower and do a breast

Maya asked me how my appointment went and if my “boobs smiled pretty?” when I picked Lincoln and her up from school that Thursday afternoon. I didn’t laugh out loud like I did earlier in the day at the question.  With the numbing medicine wearing off at this point, my chest was throbbing at the biopsy site. It was hard to ignore or pretend like nothing had happened while they were at school.  Tyler and I had talked briefly before I left to grab them about what if anything we

The morning started out like any other Thursday morning during the school year. I woke up early to get the kids' school items ready, hustling about the kitchen sipping my coffee and going over my “To Do” list in my head.   A short time later, my two children crawled out of bed and into my lap. They snuggled there while my husband, Tyler and I talked about what plans we had for the day.   I shared, “I’m going to have a mammogram this morning and then I have to finish some thin