A Short Update for an Uneventful Day — Which is Exactly the Goal

Chemo Tuesday: Part 4

How It Started...

I wasn’t planning on writing today because — and let me say this VERY CLEARLY — uneventful chemo days are exactly what I’m aiming for. But between the texts, the calls, and people just showing up with food, treats, and love (which I genuinely love and appreciate), I figured I owed everyone a little update — especially since my last blog was a bit of a novel. So if you haven’t read it yet... what are you even doing here? Go catch up.

But spoiler alert:
→ Chemo #4... CHECK.

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The Weekend Recap: Turkey Cures Everything?

This past weekend was actually okay. I felt tired (normal) as I geared up for round four.  But Monday was great! Borderline amazing. Energy was back, spirits were high, and the highlight of my day was a full-blown faux-Thanksgiving dinner at my parents' house.

I don’t know what it is, but I swear turkey dinner is my chemo superfood. We used to do these random turkey nights more often, but with everything going on — them, me, life — it’s been a while. I forgot how much I LOVE IT!  Pretty sure this is now officially my pre-chemo meal moving forward. Consider it tradition.

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My Morning: Alarm? What Alarm?

Apparently, today I just... forgot to set my alarm. Which I never do. I have a whole system:

1. Alarm goes off.
2. Shower in five minutes.
3. Ready in five minutes.
4. Set the alarm for the next day.

Well. That didn’t happen.
Instead, I woke up naturally at 5:15 and thought, “Look at me being all zen and ahead of schedule.”  Next thing I know, it’s 6:38 AM... and Meghan (Meegs) is coming at 6:45.

Cue the chaos.

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Enter: Meghan, the MVP

I fly into her car (after running back into the house twice because OF COURSE I forgot stuff), and not only is she calm... she shows up with a gorgeous succulent for me. Because that’s just who she is. Meghan is a do-it girl, get-it-done girl, and has been showing up for me since 1^st grade.  (Eek!  She’s one of those childhood forever friends who knows EVERYTHING I don’t want everyone to know).

There’s traffic — because it’s Massachusetts and that’s our personality trait — but we roll into Dana-Farber Chestnut Hill at 8:20 for my 8:10 appointment. Honestly? That’s a win.

• Labs — done by 8:45. Tech?  Fabulous!! 
• Vitals — done by 9:00
• Dr. Schummer — only 30 minutes late this time (because there was an accident — uh huh, sure. Cool story. I was still on time though.)

Last time it was because she had “a couple of really challenging cases.”  As Zoe just said to me: “Excuses are like assholes, Mom... we all have them.”  YEH, DR. SCHUMMER. SAME.

Dr. Schummer is... let’s call her a scripted monologue kind of doctor. She talks at you, not to you, unless you throw in a rogue comment that disrupts her internal teleprompter.  Which, of course, I did. Because... I’m me😊😇.

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Chemo Time

✔️We finally get into the chemo suite — about 30 minutes late.

✔️Started at 10:30 pre gaming (fluids, steroids, anti-nausea regime)

✔️Drugs started flowing by 11:30

✔️Meghan stayed with me until about 12:30

✔️Chip came for the handoff around 12:38

✔️Done by 2:30

✔️Home by 3:45ish

Traffic sucked. Everything else? Fine. (Honestly, I slept the entire time. So, yeh🫣. Sorry Charles)

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Let Me Clarify: What’s Next

Apparently, I’ve been so busy talking about chemo and all its glory that I maybe forgot to explain the bigger picture clearly — shocking, I know.

Today was round four of six — the last of my “big bad” TCHP chemo sessions before surgery. Fingers crossed that this weekend does not look like the disaster of round three. That’s really the bar I’m working with right now: just please not worse than last time. But IV Fluids are scheduled for this Friday, April 18^th and Tuesday April 22^nd (HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN MIMI! if you missed it in the last post).

But back to the bigger picture.  Here it is:

→ There are SIX chemo sessions total before surgery.
→ Surgery is scheduled for June 24.
→ Surgery is not the finish line (annoying, but true).

Once surgery happens, they’ll send everything (tumor, lymph nodes, tissue, skin) to pathology. What comes back from that lab report will determine the next steps. That could mean more chemo, radiation,— or some combination of those.  It definitely still entails targeted HER2 therapy and hormone therapy for the entire year (through March 2026!)

Translation:
I don’t ring the bell after the 6^th round of this chemo. I don’t get to scream “I’m done” after surgery. Everything is based on what they find in that pathology report.

In other words... buckle up. It’s a “choose your own adventure” but nobody asked me what page I wanted to turn to.

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Thank Yous: The Real Dream Team

• Shannon & Jenn:
  Showed up with amazing flowers, snacks, Henry’s chicken salad (aka danger in a container), and yes — a full chicken pot pie. Also brought their company, which is my favorite part.
• Charlotte & Lauren:
  Came by Saturday morning for a visit and saved me from myself. Charlotte cooked the kugel I was supposed to bring to Passover dinner (spoiler: I didn’t make it), and left me an incredible chicken dinner for Sunday night. MVP status.
• Zach (Zoe’s boyfriend):
  I roped him into making four batches of “crack” (a.k.a. chocolate matzah toffee) for Passover. Which I didn’t attend because, let’s be real, I’m in bed by 7 p.m. like a toddler on Benadryl.
• Meghan/Meegs (aka MM):
  The succulent was just the beginning.
  She also brought:
• New slippers
• A stress toy we’ll discuss shortly
• A cute board I got to write on during chemo (she held it up like Vanna White)
• Pop Culture Quiz cards, which we crushed during chemo — yes, even Chip joined in

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Challenge Question: WHAT DOES THIS LOOK LIKE TO YOU?

So Meghan brought me this delightfully weird stress device today. The second I picked it up and squeezed it, I immediately thought it looked like something hilariously inappropriate.

And now... I need to know what YOU think it looks like.

Here’s how this works:
→ COMMENT below your guess
→ Or TEXT me if you’re feeling shy

BUT HERE’S THE DEAL

The only way you’ll get to hear what I thought it looked like is if you actually comment or text me. No lurking. No passive scrolling. You play — I reply to YOU only by text. That's how this works.

And yes, I’m absolutely keeping a mental scoreboard of who’s brave enough to play.

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That’s It For Today

More updates when there’s more drama.

In the meantime — I hear you, I see you, I feel you.

Thank you for checking in, showing up, sending love, feeding me (and my fam), and playing along with my nonsense. It matters more than you know.

Now go guess what that weird little stress toy looks like.

Game on.