Recap: Port Monday, Poison Tuesday & Winning Wednesday

Today I’m winning.

New Game Plan

Steroids Are Magic.  Took the steroids right away this time — and I get them for two full days. Let me tell you, this is the move. I feel fantastic, and I highly recommend (though not without medical supervision, obviously — don’t get wild).  New meds, new approach — basically, we’re throwing the kitchen sink at this round and hoping it behaves better than the first. So far, so good.

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Pilates or Pie & Lattes?

Pilates this morning — because I refuse to let my tribe down.  And to be honest, they keep me going and laughing. 

Now, for the real question:  For all of you who now know the Wednesday 6:30 AM Duo, let’s be honest — when given the choice between Pilates and Pie & Lattes this morning, what did they pick? Exactly. That’s what I thought.

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Gifts, Love & Overwhelmed Gratitude

Flowers & Florals That Won’t Quit

Shout-out to Lyndie, my fellow Pilates girl, Breast Cancer FU Teammate, and floral wizard. Monday’s delivery was a gift inside a gift inside a gift — the Mary Poppins bag of chemo care.

Every time I thought I was done, another zipper opened.

• Chemo mug ready to be thrown at the next person who says ‘stay positive’
• Hilarious cancer business cards (a personal favorite)
• Cancer socks for the occasion
• Full-on cancer spa survival kit

Lyndie — you outdid yourself.

Meals That Deserve Michelin Stars

And let’s talk about the meals — because last week? I could actually eat!!

• Sue, your grilled lemon chicken, green beans, and quinoa salad? Incredible.
• Samia, that chicken noodle soup was straight-up medicine for my soul.
• The Bolzans — despite having moved to a distant land called Boxford, you still delivered the most amazing beef stew and somehow kept me awake later than I’ve stayed up in years. You clearly have witch powers.
• Jay!  Chocolate is a Meal and is always Welcome. 

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The Attempted Assassination (With Love)

Last nights dinner brought to you by Jagruti and Rahul, who tried to kill me — but I know it’s only because they love me.

They showed up with a beautiful, healthy, candlelit dinner of baked salmon, potatoes, and Caesar salad — which Zach and Zoe fully enjoyed while I sat on the couch shouting, “Stay away from me!”

The food, the effort, and most importantly — their presence and love — is everything.

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The Little Things (That Aren’t So Little)

To everyone who keeps sending surprises, dropping off love bombs, and showing up in ways big and small — please know I see every bit of it, and I am so deeply grateful.

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Port Monday: Welcome to the Dungeon (and the Closet)

The 4:30 AM Pick up & The Suburban Extraction

Linda Downey got me to Brigham at an hour that should be illegal. After the port installation extravaganza, Sam swooped in for the suburban rescue mission.

The Unexpected Dungeon Tour

Straight down to Radiology’s Basement Lair — not a spa, not a sleek suite — but basement level two, where you get a cubicle with all the charm of a TSA secondary screening. I was prisoner #1 in the N unit, which sounds edgy, but just means I got the corner stall with bonus fluorescent lighting.

Meet the Port (and the Vein Games)

First nurse couldn’t find a vein and got politely benched. Enter Young Nurse Extraordinaire, who found it in two seconds flat and won my heart forever.

Fentanyl & Full Fade to Black

Nurse: "How out of it do you want to be?"

Me: "Make me forget I exist."

Next thing I know, I’m waking up in a glorified supply closet (basement level one for anyone keeping track), surrounded by:

• The PA (putting in the Low Profile “Dignity Port”)
• A Mystery Human (possibly medical, possibly wandered in by mistake)
• My Nurse (Saint.)

Itch-a-Palooza

Pro tip: Fentanyl apparently turns me into a human scratch ticket. Hands tied down (with soft little ribbons — how festive) and I spent an hour demanding my nurse itch my face, ears, nose, arms, head — full-body scratching concierge service.

Port Aftermath

Once the drugs wore off? That port hurt!   Imagine a five-day wasp nest sting taped to your chest wall. Delightful.

Bonus Round: Head Shaving & Safe Words

Because one body mod wasn’t enough, Chip fired up the clippers like foreplay was back on the table and went after my scalp like I came with a safe word.

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Chemo Round #2 – Complete

Visitors & VIPs: Jay and Terry: The 5:45 a.m. Dream Team

First up, James “Benji” Gelwick pulled a total stealth move (maybe not) and flew in from Virginia Beach just to spend the world’s longest day at Dana-Farber with me yesterday. Gold star, Benji.

Jay and Terry rolled up at 5:45 a.m. sharp, ready for duty — but let’s be clear: I wasn’t leaving a second before 6. Dana-Farber can wait.

When we ended up ahead of schedule (shocking, I know), I made them detour for coffee first — priorities, people.

Oh, and we need to talk about The Truck. I’m officially requesting regular luxury shuttle service to and from Dana-Farber in this truck only.

First of all — Pristine. Not a crumb, not a smudge, nothing. This truck sparkled.

That said — Terry might need one of those fancy 'good for pet hair' lint rollers for a few rogue lint bunnies, but honestly, that’s just character.

Second — and this is where Terry truly dropped the ball — in the final three minutes of our 90-minute drive, he casually mentions, 'Oh, this seat has a built-in massage.'

Excuse me, WHAT?!

Ninety minutes, and you wait until we’re practically pulling into the parking garage to unveil the MASSAGE THRONE?!

Terry — I’m sorry, but I’m officially in love…with your truck.

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Port Report

First time using my shiny new port. Let me just say, having it installed on Monday and jabbed into on Tuesday is…a choice. When the nurse asked if I wanted to go old-school and use a vein instead, I almost launched out of my chair. NO. We did not put this titanium chest nipple in just to admire it. Use the port.

Wasn’t quite prepared for the delightful little prick moment (story of my life), but here we are. Port is officially part of the team.

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Now Let’s Recap the Chemo Cocktail Menu

What’s in My IV and What It’s Doing to Me

First off — you don’t just waltz into the infusion BAY with your chemo drugs in hand like it’s a BYOB situation. No, no. There’s foreplay.

For the first hour, they hit you with the pre-game:

• Emend (for nausea, because apparently vomiting in public is frowned upon)
• Steroids (the magic ones that make me feel like I could roof a house)
• Ibuprofen (because why not?)
• Plus half a bag of IV fluids delivered at the speed of a DMV line.

And THEN — they bring out the big guns.

Taxotere: Tequila’s Meaner, Balder Cousin

They say tequila makes your clothes fall off — well, Taxotere makes your hair fall off and leaves you looking like a half-plucked ragdoll cat that lost a fight with a leaf blower.

Instead of dancing on a bar, you’ll find yourself standing in your kitchen, staring into the fridge, forgetting why you opened it in the first place. It’s tequila blackout — but with no fun and maximum shedding.

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Carboplatin: The Quiet Assassin

Carboplatin sneaks into your veins like a platinum ninja, wrecks cancer’s DNA like a toxic breakup, and on the way out, it:

• Murders my appetite
• Tanks my blood counts (I’ll miss you, platelets)
• Makes me so tired I forget (wait, what was I saying)
• Fires up Metal Mouth (everything tastes like old nickels)
• Occasionally teams up with Taxotere for the Great Hair Evacuation Party

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The Grand Finale: Herceptin & Perjeta (a.k.a. My New Year-Long Besties)

Just when you think the IV show is over — they bring out the long-term relationship drugs:

• Herceptin: Works by blocking HER2 receptors — basically, it tells my overachieving cancer cells to sit the hell down and stop multiplying.
• Perjeta: This one double-teams HER2, locking it up even tighter so the cancer has no way to spread. It’s the Thelma & Louise of cancer drugs, and they’re coming for the tumor with a full tank of gas.

Taxotere and carboplatin (x2) are in the books. Hopefully, only four more to go with this dream team before switching to the year-long immunotherapy plan.  Herceptin and Perjeta, these two will be with me for the entire year, dripping in through my shiny new port like we’re doing a slow, toxic champagne toast every three weeks.

Best Comment of the Day Award:

While all this was happening, Benji leaned over and whispered, “Do they keep forgetting who you are?”

Here’s why — every time they hang a new bag, two different nurses have to come in, ask me for my full name and date of birth, and then do some secret override dance on the computer before they let the poison flow. Safety first. Hilarity second.

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And Then…The Getaway Car

Because no great production is complete without a strong closing act, Lynne swooped in for the afternoon shift and executed a getaway so smooth it deserves a car chase soundtrack.

Crack of dawn arrival, long-ass day, comedy gold all around — and this was just the halftime show.

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Dinner & Medium Madness

Dinner delivery courtesy of Captain Katie, who showed up with enough Greek food to feed a small wedding. (and some tasty desserts from Spinelli's).  Amazing.

Then, because my life refuses to follow a script, I closed out the day at Jenn’s house, meeting a medium for the first time.

Jury’s still out. So — tell me:

• Who believes in this stuff?
• Who thinks it’s just a glorified psychic party trick?

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Hair Loss Chronicles: Baby Bird Edition

I’m getting way more comfortable being bald. My baby bird wispies up front are hanging on — and they’re somehow super blonde, while the back of my head is dark. Science? No clue.

Hats vs. Head

Hats with Hair lasts about an hour, maybe two, before I rip it off. My head needs to breathe. Fun fact: Jay rocked my hat last night, so we were twinning.

Hat Showdown: Party time, excellent!

Who wore it best? Me — freshly bald and living my best Dana-Farber basement chic, or Jay — serving Garth realness after a bender in a wig shop? You decide.

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Metal Mouth PSA

Metal Mouth is officially back. I’m locked and loaded with:

• Numbing mouth gel
• Fancy citrus chemo inhaler (mists through my nose so my mouth doesn’t become a canker sore crime scene)
• Enough supplies to open a CVS in my kitchen

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Post Chemo Session 2, Day 2:   It’s 6:30 AM & I’M STILL WINNING! 

& Because You Know I Can’t Just End This Without a Challenge

Alright, friends, family, Pilates cult, and professional troublemakers — you’ve been following along &  cheering me on!  Let’s settle this.

Medium Madness. I want to know where you stand on this whole medium/psychic/talking-to-the-other-side thing.

• Are you a believer? If yes, I want to hear your best, juiciest, no-way-you-could-have-known-that story. Full drama.

• Are you a skeptic? Have you ever actually gone to one? If yes, what made you leave saying, “Nope. Total scam.” I want details.

This isn’t just curiosity — this is me gathering evidence for my next medium adventure.  I have questions. You have answers. Comment, text or just whisper into the wind.