This past week was what I like to call beautifully boring. Quiet. Uneventful. The kind of week that doesn’t have me flipping through my medical binder, adding another stack of appointment cards. Ahh, bliss. But of course, even in a calm week, cancer finds a way to sneak in some action.
Aspiration #3: A Full House Situation
My first adventure of the week was yet another seroma aspiration—because, apparently, my armpit thinks it’s hosting a fluid rave that refuses to shut down. This time, I had the pleasure of being the main attraction for not one but two male doctors.
When they walked in, the primary doctor introduced himself and his tag-along, asking if it was okay for the second doctor to observe. I gave them a big smile and said, “Of course! Welcome to the Shitty Titty Committee.”
Let me tell you, the room exploded with laughter. It’s moments like these that remind me how important it is to bring humor into situations that are otherwise emotionally draining. You have to laugh—or else, you’ll cry… and I’m fresh out of waterproof mascara.
Sayonara, 17ml of Fluid
The procedure itself was as glamorous as any ultrasound can be—cool gel, probing wand, the whole shebang. This time, they sucked out 17ml of fluid (I swear, I could’ve filled a shot glass). The doctor collapsed a few of the pockets within and around the lymph node space, and I definitely felt a difference in size. But let’s be real—it’s still bulging like a mini water balloon.
Now, here’s the kicker: If they have to drain this sucker one more time, it’s bye-bye aspiration, hello surgical drain. No, thank you! I am not about that life, so I’m crossing my fingers, toes, and everything else that my body absorbs the rest of the fluid on its own.
Radiation Reality Check
Next up was my second appointment of the week—this time, a video call with Radiology Oncology. I like to think of these calls as “Story Time with Science,” where they break down complex procedures into bite-sized info that my post-chemo brain can (hopefully) digest.
We talked about my upcoming radiation plan. Drumroll, please…
🎉 3 weeks of radiation focused on my entire right breast and axilla. 🎉
The nurse explained why radiation is a crucial part of my treatment plan and walked me through the short- and long-term side effects. I nodded along, thinking, “Okay, this all sounds easy enough.” But let’s be real—I’ll believe that when I see it.
Before signing off, she scheduled another appointment called simulation therapy. Apparently, this is where they get all the required scans and information to ensure the radiation zaps only the bad stuff and doesn’t turn my body into a science experiment gone wrong. Gotta love more appointments!
Oh, and speaking of appointments… I now have four back-to-back appointments on the same day. I swear, if I had a punch card for medical visits, I’d be eligible for a free coffee by now.
Training for Radiation: Stretch It Out
With radiation on the horizon, I spent the weekend prepping my body for the upcoming circus act. My arms will need to be above my head during treatment, so I’ve been icing my axilla (fancy word for armpit) and stretching my arm and chest muscles like I’m training for the Radiation Olympics. I refuse to let tight muscles be the reason I tap out early.
Spring Break Shenanigans
Since my kids were on spring break, I felt obligated to do something fun. After all, they’ve been my rock through this whole journey, and they deserved a break from “Mom’s Medical Drama.”
So, we packed up and took a day trip on Amtrak to this charming little town about 2.5 hours away. The day was absolutely perfect. We stumbled upon a festival, took a boat tour, and devoured some delightful food that didn’t even require me to beg my taste buds to cooperate. The weather? Ideal. The company? Even better.
That little escape was a reminder of how much this cancer journey has changed me. It’s made me appreciate the simple joys of life—like laughter, family time, and food that actually tastes good again.
On to the Next Adventure
Now that I’ve gotten a taste of adventure, I’m already plotting my next weekend getaway. I don’t know where yet, but I’m ready to trade hospital gowns for sundresses (eh, shorts and tees) and syringes for sunshine.
Until then, I’ll keep icing, stretching, and praying that my armpit stops hoarding fluid like it’s prepping for a drought. And I’ll continue to navigate this crazy journey with a little bit of grace and a whole lot of grit.
Stay tuned—because with me, the adventure never really ends. 😎
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