Collateral Damage

Car Crash of January 2025

Since what I now refer to as the "Car Crash of January 2025," everyone around me has become Collateral Damage. It's like I was cruising along, faithfully following Waze, obeying all the rules, when suddenly—BAM!—someone T-bones me at the intersection of Life and Seriously-WTF Avenue. Now everyone's stuck handling the fallout—family, friends, insurance, even the nosy bystanders whispering, "Ooh, what happened ?!"

But hey, amidst this chaos, I actually had a pretty "normal" weekend. I'm cautiously optimistic this round and have narrowed it down to a few possibilities:

• A) I caught a stomach bug alongside chemo session #3.
• B) They finally nailed the right combo of meds.
• C) The weather
• D) ALL OF THE ABOVE

Who cares which one it is—I'm claiming this victory and running with it!

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IV Fluids & Tea Tricks 🧋

Friday was another glamorous three-hour session hooked up to IV fluids (my new post-chemo hobby—move aside, blogging!).  I'm still feeling pretty good. My newest brilliant discovery: Passion Tea from Starbucks, heavily iced and watered down—because water is too mainstream, still makes me nauseous (and too metallic). Fun plot twist: psychosis meds—yep, you read that correctly—are weirdly amazing for nausea. Next challenge? Weaning off steroids. Get your popcorn ready; this will be the true test.

Weekend Recap: No Sunday Blues 🚫😱

Sunday Night Blues/Scaries? Not today, Satan! Friday after my IV fluid spectacular, Ronnie Sue whisked me away for lunch. She wasn’t loving the vibe from our waitress—Mimi’s radar was on high alert for “I hate my job” energy—but we powered through. And once I got home from my late lunch, instead of responsibly chilling in the kiddie pool, steroids and my insatiable appetite made me cannonball into the deep end at Hale Street for dinner. When in doubt, eat it out! (Seriously people!? Get your mind out of the gutter. Focus people!  👀👉LC)

Reviewing texts from the past few days (including some hysterical unsent gems—thanks, narcotics!), it became clear that fewer meds might actually improve my coherence. From Wednesday through Friday, my brain-mouth connection was comically broken—swollen, slurred, and amusingly chaotic.

On Saturday afternoon, Zoe and I finally finished the 1500-piece Dutch tulip puzzle (video evidence below) before getting manicures that will go down in history as absolutely tragic. Unfazed, we headed to Manchester to harass cousin Tracy and celebrate Zoe’s April 8th birthday—again—and Cameron’s too (basically my nephew, but don't ask unless you have your family tree handy).

April birthdays in my family are like a marathon we never signed up for: Doug Hano, Zoe Hano, James Lloyd, Cameron Adkins, Ronnie Sue Katz, and Chip Hano. We’re celebrating yet again Tuesday night. Weirdly enough, sweets aren't even appealing these days. Thanks, mucositis, you finally earned your keep.

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🧃 Collateral Damage: Mouth Edition

Apparently, chemo doesn’t just attack your energy and hair—it goes for your ability to drink from a straw like a normal human. Somewhere between neuropathy, dry mouth, and microscopic facial muscle fatigue, I’ve developed the mouth function of a toddler learning how to sip. I’m not kidding—it’s suddenly hard to keep a good seal around a straw or manage a lidded cup without looking like I’ve just had dental work. And food? It loves to camp out between my bottom teeth and the front of my mouth like it’s paying rent. It’s a weird mix of "chemo meets muscle rebellion", and no, I’m not drooling in public (yet), but we’re close. This is your reminder that even the tiniest things—like drinking water—can become Olympic sports during treatment. 🥇

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Midweek Plot Points

But none of this has crushed my spirit. I'm riding this wild rollercoaster with humor, resilience, and just the right amount of questionable judgment.

Wednesday brought the always-delightful Lindsey Lou, complete with lovely flowers and lemons. (Fun fact: just realized she’s an LC too—chemo brain coming in hot.)

Also? Last weekend, a mystery package showed up: a one-million-piece 3D Lego floral arrangement. No card. No note. Nothing. Lindsey walks in and goes, “Yeah, that was me.” OF COURSE IT WAS. She knows everything about me—she was my matron of honor. I don’t know about this one, Linds... but when Jake comes home for the summer, I promise I’ll try.

Thursday featured an encore from Sue. This time, I made an actual decision—shocking, I know—and requested lemon grilled chicken, quinoa, green beans, and then came the pièce de résistance: PACZKI. OMG. Actual. Dessert. Heaven.

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🎉❤️ Collateral but Not Crushed 🚗💥

Yes, cancer feels like a bizarre car crash I never signed up for, complete with bizarre meds, side effects that belong in horror movies, questionable life choices, and historically awful manicures.

From the bottom of my heart—thank you for riding shotgun through this medical demolition derby with me. Whether you're holding my hand, dropping off food, sending memes, or just reading along—you make sure I never feel alone.

Collateral damage or not, it's sure making for one epic story to tell.  And let’s be honest—who doesn’t love a good plot twist?

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Challenge Question 🤔

Because the last challenge had us laughing non-stop, let's revisit an earlier dilemma—one I now officially have the answer to. If you had to choose between:

• Option 1: Non-stop nausea and vomiting
• Option 2: Steroids, endless eating, hernia, and IBS-C (what a delightful combo!)

I’ll take Option 2. Why not? Lost my hair, but my skin’s never been smoother (thanks, chemo, for erasing pores!). Sure, I've lost weight after three rounds, but I'll gladly take the weight gain if it means no vomiting. Wins, people!

So, here's my new challenge question for you:

What's one thing you swore you wouldn't do, but then you did it anyway because it ultimately made you feel better—collateral damage be damned?