You ever have one of those weeks where everything is so still, you start to question if you’re forgetting something? That was me this week. No appointments; No waiting rooms; No needles. Just me, my body, and a few friendly reminders from my medical team that even when things are quiet, they are never really that quiet.
Let’s start with the big, exciting news: I learned a new phrase—dihydropyrimidine dehydrogenase (DPYD) genotype. Don’t worry, I don’t know what it means either. But I Googled it, because that’s what I do when unfamiliar polysyllabic words show up in my patient portal. After reading three medical abstracts, watching two YouTube videos, and squinting at a diagram of a DNA strand, I think I now understand about… five cents’ worth. Maybe six on a good day. Something about how the body breaks down certain chemo drugs, and how your genes play a role. Fascinating, confusing, and possibly something I’ll never mention again unless it shows up in a crossword puzzle.
Even with the lull in appointments, I’m still managing a few lingering joys from previous procedures. Let’s talk about Sadie the Seroma—she’s still here, living her best squishy life under my arm. At first, I thought “swollen” was the right term, but it feels more like I rolled up a paper towel and stuck it beneath my incision. It’s softer now, less dramatic, and I’m guessing my body is finally absorbing the leftover fluid. I’m massaging, stretching, and whispering motivational speeches to her like, “You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.”
Speaking of physical annoyances, let’s talk about my hands. Whew. Some days it feels like I’m exfoliating my fingertips with sandpaper… except it’s happening from inside my body. Add to that a set of fingernails that are hanging on for dear life—dead, but still somehow attached—and you’ve got yourself a recipe for constant discomfort. I keep them polished so I don’t have to see their true condition, which I’ve decided is somewhere between zombie hands and DIY nail horror. I’m hoping fresh, healthy nails are growing underneath and will eventually push these imposters out. Fingers crossed. Literally. If I can stretch them without feeling like I’m sanding wood.
Now, remember when I told you I was going to start strength training? Yeah… that didn’t happen. I meant to. I even thought about picking up the weights, but then I remembered I don’t like picking up things that are heavy when walking exists. On the bright side, I have increased my daily steps. I’ve even turned it into a game. Turns out, walking is easier when you’re tricking yourself into having fun. Small wins count!
One of my biggest victories this week, though, was staying away from ultra-processed sweets. No candy. No cookies. Not even the cute little pastries that wink at me in the cafeteria. I felt a phantom Gabriel tugging on my collar every time I got too close. And honestly, it worked. I’m really proud of that.
You see, over the last few months, I’ve been knee-deep in research (I told y’all, I Google everything), and so many sources point to sugar being linked to cancer. I’m not a doctor, and I certainly don’t want to debate the internet, but if avoiding sugar might help me—and my family—I’m all in. I used to stock my pantry with every snack you can imagine, mostly for the kids. Now I’m slowly swapping them out for fruits, nuts, and snacks that don’t sound like they were manufactured in a lab. I’d love for my kids to avoid health issues like excessive weight and cancer too. I want them to grow up knowing how to take care of their bodies from the inside out.
Now, here’s the real moment of honesty: I still get a knot in my stomach typing the words breast cancer. I was diagnosed 8 months ago, and it still doesn’t feel real some days. For 14 years, I focused on preventing diabetes, changing my diet, and staying active. I even had gestational diabetes with both of my kids, so I was well aware of my risks. But cancer? That wasn’t supposed to be part of the script.
But instead of asking “Why me?”, I’m focusing on “What now?” And what now is mindset, healing, and progress. I’ve decided I want to be 110% better than I was before this journey began. I don’t know how long it’ll take, but every day I’m becoming a better version of myself—mentally, emotionally, and physically. Some days I take big steps. Other days, it’s more of a shuffle. But forward is forward.
Here’s to quiet weeks, steady healing, and learning strange new medical terms that make us feel smarter than we actually are.
Until next time…
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