It’s been two weeks since my last post, and what a stretch it’s been. When I last checked in, I had just started Capecitabine (oral chemo) and was cautiously optimistic, bracing myself for side effects. Since then, I’ve boarded a train, climbed the Rocky steps, survived Nurse Maddie, and turned 51 in style. Let’s dive in.
Chemo, But Make It Travel-Friendly
My family and I took a 17-hour overnight train ride to Philadelphia for a family reunion. Did I mention this happened while I was on chemo? Yes. Because apparently, I enjoy a good challenge.
But credit where it’s due—I packed like a pro. My Animal Crossing-themed chemo box was locked, loaded, and lifesaving. It had everything: meds, creams, gloves, socks, and a whole lot of prayer.
The trip was a success! I got my meds on time, moisturized like a skincare ambassador, and walked more than I had in weeks—like 19,000 steps-a-day more. We hit Center City, Love Park, Logan Square, the Liberty Bell, and of course, the iconic Rocky steps. And yes, I stood tall next to the Balboa statue like a champ (though I was a bit winded from the climb—don’t judge me).
Even when I wasn’t playing tourist, I enjoyed morning and evening walks in the neighborhood. Fresh scenery and new sidewalks—what more could a girl ask for?
Philly, Meet Birthday Girl Energy
Just days after getting back, I turned 51—and let me tell you, I celebrated with all the elegance and audacity this new chapter deserves.
I pulled out a bold red suit for a gala and tried to serve “grown and glowing” energy from head to toe. But wait—there’s more. I even went all in and got a temp fade to show off my new post-chemo curls. These baby hairs have minds of their own, but with that fade? I was feeling myself. Cancer might have dimmed a few lights, but honey, the spotlight was mine that night.
Back to Reality: Labs, Nurse Marti, and Maddie Mayhem
After the birthday celebrations and sightseeing glow faded, it was back to Mayo for labs, a check-in with Nurse Marti (she’s back!), my Keytruda infusion, and round two of Capecitabine.
Lab day started smoothly—The nurse greeted me like a VIP and accessed my port with finesse. My hemoglobin is finally back in normal range (hallelujah), but potassium? Still low. Again. Apparently, we’re in a toxic relationship.
Marti and I reviewed everything, she inspected the infamous shitty titty and encouraged me to keep massaging the scar tissue—anytime, anywhere. Desk? Bed? Shower? Get those fingers moving.
Then came Nurse Maddie.
Not-So-Fun With Maddie
Let’s just say Maddie wasn’t giving me the same cozy, competent energy I’m used to. First, she asked which arm I wanted for the IV. I said, “Why would I do that? I have a port.” She blinked, nodded, and proceeded to prep me… only to realize I was already accessed. Okay, strike one.
Then she connected the wrong tubing to the Keytruda. The wrong tubing, y’all. The kind without the filter—the one that’s supposed to catch glass particles and other contaminants. Excuse me?!
At that point, I calmly told her, “Ma’am, I need you to get your head in the game.” Meanwhile, I was texting Melissa: “If I don’t make it, tell my story—it was Nurse Maddie.” I survived, obviously. But the drama? Uncalled for.
Neuropathy, Nutrition and the Quest for Normalcy
I’m currently on my 2nd cycle of Capecitabine. Side effects are still minimal, but I’ve noticed increased pressure in the balls of my feet and that awful sock-bundled-in-shoe feeling that comes with neuropathy. It’s like my body’s version of “Survivor”—new challenge every week.
I’m doing my best to eat healthy, get enough calories, and keep my body strong. I want to hit a healthy weight, yes—but I want to earn it through wellness, not chemo-induced shrinkage.
Closing Thoughts
This journey continues to test me—but also remind me of my strength. I’ve walked new cities, celebrated a new year of life, and made it through missteps with nurses and medication alike. I’ve got a plan, a port, and a pretty amazing red suit that says, “Cancer didn’t win this round.”
Until next time, moisturize everything, triple-check your IV tubing, and live like you’ve got a temp fade and somewhere fabulous to be.
