Officially in the Chemo Club

First Day of Chemo: "That Was Easy"

I feel like a Staples commercial. “That was easy.” Except replace “easy” with “a sudden plunge into medical mayhem with a side of premium toxins.”

Somehow, I managed eight full hours of sleep last night, which at this point feels like winning the Powerball of Rest. Maybe it’s because Fenway skipped his usual midnight rib assault and instead wedged himself between Chip’s legs. Chip had no idea he was harboring a fugitive. Stealth level: expert.

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But First—Dreams Really do Come True, “The Floral Edition”

Before we get into the whole "chemo, toxins, rogue organs" thing, let’s take a moment to appreciate the absolute flower explosion that happened in my house.

First up, Sarah Burges—OMG. She brought the best hugs and, not one, but two of the biggest, beautiful and  cheery, 100 pound arrangements. So, naturally, Sarah and I were placing them when the doorbell rang.

And who was there? More flowers.

I swear Leonard’s Florist must have followed Sarah to the house because BOOM—another stunning bouquet. At this point, Sarah looks at me and, without missing a beat, says “Iam flowers.” And honestly? She is.

But wait—there’s more.

Flowers had already arrived from Sam & Fran, Sue & Colby, Doug & Kirsten, Erica & Cameron. At this rate, my house is about to be a botanical garden with a side of medical-grade poison.

Seriously, you shouldn’t have.  Wait—no, do. Keep doing it.

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The Help Ask (Aka, You Are Not My Maid, But Also, Thank You)

Sue tried to show up and help, but she was sick, and the last thing I need is to add the plague to my chemo regimen. So, no way, Jose.

Enter Francesca, the real MVP. She hung out, chatted, folded laundry, and generally made my life less chaotic.

Then, when Sam,  Zoe and Chip got home from work, we had a wonderful dinner together.  I know I keep saying this, but I am truly blessed.

But that’s not why you’re here, so…

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The Drive In: Traffic, Labs & Rogue Organs

The morning commute? Classic 128 traffic. Shockingly calm. No deep thoughts, no existential dread. Just happily being. I swear everyone else is more nervous than I am.

First up:
✔️ IV (port coming soon) and bloodwork.
✔️ Met with my medical oncologist’s PA and her assistant—both rockstars.
✔️ Lab results? Great… except for my bilirubin, which is back on its BS. It had been behaving since my implants got evicted, but apparently, it’s staging a comeback.

Kidney function? Still thriving. (Bye-bye, implants.)

Tumor status? They could definitely feel it growing back in my left breast. Now we wait and see. But no worries—chemo, do your thing.

✔️ Shrink.
✔️ Disappear.
✔️ Pack your bags and leave.

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Chemo, Round One: Toxic Cocktails & Buzzed Vibes  

Next up: IV fluids and my first round of chemo.

Docetaxel (Taxotere) wasted no time living up to its reputation. Halfway through, I was buzzed and sleepy. So thank you, Taxotere, my new toxic cocktail.

And just as I was settling into my medically induced haze, Michael Francis arrived.

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How to Get Your Childhood Friend to Show Up: Start Chemo

Right on time for lunch, Mikey (aka Bicus) strolled in—protein smoothie in hand, straight from Lifetime. Official MVP of the day. And, of course, he brought The Speaker—his tiny, overly dramatic music box of doom that only makes an appearance during life’s “oh shit” moments.

Naturally, I got a personalized U2 concert right in the chemo chair. Between that and watching his face zoom in and out during my Taxotere trip, the entertainment value was top-tier.

Twelve out of ten. Highly recommend for all future infusions.

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Chemo, Round Two: Speed Run Edition

Before I could properly recover from my U2 experience, it was time for Carboplatin. 

Goodbye, hair.

Then onto Kanji l, an updated  version of Herceptin, ready to obliterate the HER2+ buggers in my bloodstream. This one hit harder. My veins were not amused. So cold. But it’s done.

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Let Them

Mom and Dad arrived at Dana-Farber around 5:00 PM for pickup. Let’s just say, Dad was not thriving. Back pain, kidney issues, low blood levels—basically, his body is staging a protest. But let’s call a spade a spade: both Ronnie Sue and Sidney may be falling apart, but they look fantastic.

I think this was a one-and-done for him. He looked like he took a wrecking ball to the soul. But if he wants to tough it out again? I love him, and I will let him.

Then, just when I thought I was free, a quick hangout session before the grand finale: Perjeta. Because why not.

Final steps included the standard thirty-minute post-infusion hold because hospitals love a good “sit and wait” policy. The Neulasta pump is now in place, the ultimate “don’t touch it” device. It kicks in automatically in twenty-seven hours to boost white blood cells, which is great in theory, except for the part where it makes my bones feel like they’re being snapped in half.

Chemo day one is in the books. Left the house at seven in the morning with Chip leading the charge. Had a midday chemo cocktail with a childhood friend who could give LC a run for her money when it comes to the Irish exit. Finished with my “Let Them” parents at the finish line.

I should be home by eight, assuming RSK doesn’t get lost and they don’t refuse to let my father leave Dana-Farber because he doesn’t have discharge papers. Hold up, sir. I’m the patient.

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Post-Chemo Plans: Priorities = Food

Oh, did I mention I feel fine? So fine, in fact, that we are going to Legal Seafood Lynnfield for dinner.

Mom, Dad, and I made it there, and Chip met up with us on his way back from the South Shore. Mom’s driving was a solid ten out of ten. Or maybe I was chemo drunk—is that a thing?

The next session should be half the time. With labs, doctor visits, and chemo, I’m looking at a breezy six-hour day.  Let’s hope.

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You Don’t Have to Go Home, But You Can’t Stay Here

Pop In, Hang Out, Don’t Move In.  Anyone can come anytime—no golden ticket required. Pop in, hang out, and go live your life.  And if you want to head over to Serena & Lily and pick up a table, chair, or pillow for me—EVEN BETTER. But more than 90 minutes in my chemo bay? Hard pass.

🩷 Even Chip got the boot. He came in with me, then peaced out to work—honestly, a win for everyone.

🩷 If someone wants to show up with a circa 1999 Bose wireless speaker?  Let them. (Wait, I actually asked.)

🩷 If Dad insists on toughing it out again despite his body screaming otherwise? Let him.

🩷 If Mom wants to make the drive? Let her.

I’m working on letting people help how they want to. It’s a struggle, but I’m trying.

✔️ Pop in.
✔️ Hang out.
✔️ No need to strap in for the full-day emotional rollercoaster. (That’s just unnecessary suffering.)

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📉Scheduling & Bonus Chemo: Because Of Course

Hot Mess Express: Updating the schedule so everyone gets a little time with me—because apparently, that’s the thing to do lately. It honestly warms my heart more than you will ever know. Check for changes.

Oh, and surprise! There’s an extra chemo day I didn’t know about—because why not? Plus, plenty of other doctor appointments popping up, so I’ll keep adding those too.

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The Challenge

This section has officially become my favorite part of blogging. Why? Because your responses absolutely make my day. The funny, the heartfelt, the slightly unhinged—all of it. It’s like a group chat, but without the pressure to actually respond in real time.

So, if answering these specific questions isn’t your thing, just send me a song that sums up how you’re feeling today. Think of it as your own personal soundtrack moment.

And if music isn’t your thing? Drop an emoji. Any emoji. Mystery, chaos, and vague emotional distress are all welcome here.

Quiz Time: Let’s See Who’s Been Paying Attention

1. What contraband did Fenway sneak past Chip’s security detail? 🐾🚨
2. Which unsuspecting human was harboring a fugitive last night? 😼👀
3. What toxic cocktail had me feeling buzzed mid-chemo? 🍸💉
4. Who provided the day’s dramatic soundtrack—and what band was featured? 🎶🎤
5. What essential travel skill did RSK hopefully master today? 🚗🗺️

Winner gets… absolutely nothing. Just the satisfaction of knowing you listen better than most.  And honestly, that’s why you’re my people.