Happy Monday... on a Thursday.

M-U-C-O-S-I-T-I-S: Did I Miss the Memo or Is This the New Word of the Day?

Let me just start by saying this: I fully intended to post this blog days ago. 

Last week’s blog went out on a high note. I felt good. REALLY good. The kind of good that makes you look around suspiciously like, "Wait... am I allowed to feel okay right now?"  I’m proud to report there were no Sunday blues, no scaries, no emotional meltdowns about laundry or life. Just some cautious optimism and the strange feeling of being... dare I say... okay-ish heading into Week 3 of this chemo cycle. Maybe even a little great? Let’s not jinx it, but I’ll take this moment while I can.

My plan was to post a deep dive on mucositis. Instead? My week got away from me. Instagram got the mini-updates, the behind-the-scenes chaos, and my blog? Sat here, tapping its little blog foot, waiting for me to catch up.

Because just as I was recovering from last week's disaster, feeling borderline functional... Chip hit me with taxes.

Suddenly, mucositis was no longer the worst word in my life.

So between mucositis, mucous, and mileage deductions, here we are: Thursday. But guess what?

We have a plan. We figured this crap out.

And I am doing good. Tired? Always. But good.

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Let’s Back It Up... Remember Last Week? Yeah, Neither Do I.

Before we dive into today’s diva — mucositis — let’s recap what we’ve already survived:

✔️ The 21-day chemo cycle and how it wrecks you in stages.

✔️ The cumulative hit from each round (Cycle 3 had me on the ropes).

✔️ The IV fluids, dehydration, and my new identity as a human raisin.

✔️ The endless fun of being nauseous and unable to eat anything that doesn’t taste like battery acid.

But here’s the thing...

Chemo isn’t a neat little 21-day loop.

It’s more like waves crashing at random intervals.

And each wave slaps differently.

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The Real Chemo Cycle: Wave-by-Wave Breakdown (Now Featuring Mucositis)

Days 1–7: The Bomb Drops

• Chemo hits peak levels.
• Nausea, mucositis, fatigue, and the official disappearance of poop (due to not eating or drinking).
• GI lining damage kicks off quietly.

Days 7–13: The Mucosa Meltdown

• Raw, inflamed mucosal tissue throughout your body.
• Gut motility? Confused at best.
• Microbiome chaos.

Days 14–21: Welcome to Colon Chaos

• Gut regeneration begins... messily.
• And because you feel better and can actually eat it goes crazy!  (Yes, that’s my stomach you hear gurgling)
• Mucous bombs, diarrhea, cramping, and sudden urgency.

Translation: "Oh, you ignored me for two weeks? Now I’m going to make up for lost time... with force."

Bonus Round: Carboplatin + Docetaxel = Early constipation  → Late diarrhea. 💖 IBS-C (NOT HAPPY)

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MUCOSITIS: The Diva You Never Invited

Somewhere between nausea, lab work, and “why do my gums hurt,” a new star emerged in this side effect circus:

Chemo Belly.  Chemo Mouth.  Chemo Nose.  Why didn’t anyone just call it what it is:

M-U-C-O-S-I-T-I-S.

Symptoms?

• Burning lips & tongue
• Cheek ulcers
• Throat like hot glue
• Eating = Hangover pregnant girl vibes
• Drinking = Torture
• Talking = Selectively optional
• Poop = Jellyfish in a toilet (Yeah. I said it.)

Suddenly it was in my chart, my bloodwork, my mouth, my gut, my poop — my life.

Nobody prepared me for my Jellyfish Era (I looked at all my handouts.  It's not there!).

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But Here’s the Good News: We Have a Plan.

Hydration. Steroids. IV magic. Mucositis prevention (or at least aiding progression of).

The New Game Plan:

• Tuesday: Chemo #4 (Happy Tax Day to me!)
• Friday: IV Fluids
• Following Tuesday (April 22 — Happy Birthday, Mimi!): More fluids, steroids, and mucous-blockers

Is it glamorous? No.

Is it working?🤞

We figured it out. We’re ready. (I hope)

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Meanwhile... LIFE KEPT HAPPENING.

Wedding Dress Shopping with Sam & Zoe

Last weekend, I got to do something joyful:
Wedding dress shopping with Sam (my bride-to-be), plus some Maid of Honor glam for Zoe. We left the house at 10 AM and didn’t return until 6:30 PM. It was a long, beautiful, exhausting day—and I wouldn't trade it for anything. I’m grateful I felt well enough to be there and soak it all in.

My Brother Came to Town

On Colorado time... but up early every morning to hang out with me during peak human hours (5am-10am). 

Bonus points for effort — even if I heard “is there coffee?” before “good morning.”

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Wine, Wigs & Workout Night → Followed by More Wine at REV (No "s")

Let’s just start here…

Pic  = my brand new 47 Boston Red Sox hat 🩷. Zero connection to Wine, Wigs & Working Out Night except that apparently wearing a New York men’s hat that sits lower on your head gets you roasted in these parts. Even if my bald chemo head is screaming for more coverage.  I told you all to treat me the same, and you do. Message received. Corrected.

Now…onto last night.

Wine, Wigs & Working Out → followed immediately (and appropriately) by wine at REV. Honestly? Could not have loved this night more.

Wigs were worn. Squats were questionable. Laughing was mandatory.  And my heart? Completely full.

These are my people. This is my circle. And yes — it’s a big, messy, loud, totally-not-small circle.

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My Circle Isn’t Small... It’s Massive.

I don’t even know how to explain the way my heart feels right now.

It’s full. It’s overflowing. It actually hurts in the best possible way.

I’ve always told myself I keep my circle small. Turns out…I was wrong. So wrong. My circle is massive. It’s loud. It’s loving. It’s loyal. And it’s showing up for me in ways that leave me absolutely wrecked — in the most beautiful way.

I’m not religious, so words like blessed don’t always feel like mine to use…but honestly? I don’t know another word big enough to hold all of this.

This is what it feels like to be loved out loud.

My childhood friends are my forever friends.

The girls — the ones who know every version of me, every story (even the ones I wish they didn’t), and still love me exactly as I am.

The guys — the boys I grew up with who have become the men who show up for me with the same unconditional love they always have. No questions asked. No conditions. Just here.

And their wives? Bonus forever friends. The absolute jackpot.

My family. Chip’s family. My kids — the absolute center of my world. My reasons for everything. My greatest joy, my greatest pride, and my fiercest source of strength.

My mom crew — the women I raised my kids with. We’ve gone from playgrounds to prom photos to real life grown-up shit. And they’ve been with me every single step.

The real-deal friends who came into my life because of our kids but stayed because we found each other in the chaos — and realized this is bigger.

My misfits — my randoms, my weirdos, my people — anyone and everyone who just keeps showing up. No rules, no labels, no distance too near or far, no reason except love.

My Praxis family — my work crew — who somehow thank me for my generosity, when all I do is take my cues from them. Their words wreck me every time:
"She clearly has love and passion in her heart — we are blessed to have her on our team."
That’s them. That’s who they are. And I get to stand next to them.

My Studio 13 crew — even without a brick and mortar space, they’re still here. Still mine. Still showing up for me in ways that remind me it was never about four walls — it was always about the people inside them.

And then my Pilates people — handpicked over the years. Women I’ve moved with, laughed with, cried with…and now, somehow, they’re the ones holding me up. I still swear I’m the lucky one in that room.

And here’s what people keep saying to me:
"I know you have so many people around you, I don’t want to overwhelm you."

Let me be clear-again: there is no such thing. Everyone fits. Perfectly. Like the puzzles that rotate and now live permanently on my family room table.

This isn’t a crowd standing around me — this is a net holding me up. And there is no way I’m ever going to fall.

Every message. Every gift. Every tiny, kind, thoughtful word… I feel it. I sit with it. I cry over it. And I hold it close.

I don’t have the right words yet. So for now, all I can say is: Thank you for loving me this big.

PS: If you’re here, you fit.
PPS: If I cry on you…just hand me a snack and keep it moving.

 

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Shoutouts & Thank Yous (aka: My Heart Is So Full It Hurts)

• Lyndie — The flowers. The tulips. The pocketbook vase from Chapman’s? OBSESSED.
• PJ — Your words go straight to my heart every single time. Thank you for seeing me. And thank you for the great read.
• Jennifer — My newest sister from another mister. Your text made me cry. Your muffins and quiche are waiting in my freezer like little love bombs. And the beef stew…3 out of 3 gave it an 11 out of 10.
• Samia — Pima cotton monkey pajamas, chocolates, and the cutest bunny. Monkeys = playfulness, adaptability, resilience. Nailed it.
• Sam & Zoe — For dragging me through tulle and sequins like pros.
• My Btone Crew — Signed up faster than I could open the waitlist. Rockstars.
• Everyone reading to the end — MVP status forever.
• Jay — Do I have to? I guess I’ll forgive you for leaving me for the month while enjoying life... mostly because you sent me the amazing chocolate toffee.

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VIP Shoutout & Challenge Time

To the real ones who made it to the end of this mucous manifesto—you know who you are. You’re the ones I could sit with in silence and trust to understand the horror of mouth ulcers and surprise poop mucus without flinching.

What’s your most memorable mucus moment?

Childhood drama? Adult embarrassment? Proud survival story? (We’ve all got one.)

Nose, throat, belly — mucus shows up in all kinds of places at the worst possible times.

So what’s yours? The one that still gets mentioned at family dinners… or the one you swore nobody would ever know… until now.

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Wine, Wigs & Workout 

Superlatives, because these ladies deserve it!

Quote of the Night Award: Jennifer Greenfield

For the immortal line: “People go to jail for that shit.” You can’t teach that kind of timing. Comedy gold. Legendary delivery. We are not worthy.

Perfect Attendance & Well-Dweller Award: Rebecca O’Connor

Not only did she criss-cross applesauce herself into the well without hesitation… she also showed up 3 for 3: Wine Wigs Night, B-Tone Wigs Workout, AND drinks at REV (yes, LC, I get it — there’s no S). That’s Hall of Fame level commitment. Gold star, VIP section, front row forever.

Best Couple Award: Samantha & Francesca

MY GIRLS!  For showing up as everyone’s favorite power couple — matching vibes, scarf wigs, and humor on point. Love looks good on them.

Wig Commitment & Escape Artist Award: Lyndie Donovan

Left work early (don’t ask, don’t tell) AND kept that wig on through sweat, movement, and wine. No one could ever stop this level of dedication.

 

Pixie Stix Energy Award: Linda Downey

For rocking that tiny rainbow wig like a mischievous, slightly tipsy garden fairy. Looks sweet. Will absolutely talk trash mid plank (that stinker).

Most Likely to Travel with an Emotional Support Plant Award: Lucie Mann

Drove the furthest. Brought the best aloe. Honestly, this is elite guest behavior.

Wine Whisperer Award: Cheryl McKenna

My beach -  boat - workout girl… and low-key my favorite contraband smuggler: “I brought an extra bottle of wine… just in case.” You can’t teach that kind of friendship.

Ride or Die Award: Lauren Canny

My human shield. Ready for wine, wigs, workouts, or war.  Always shows up and never complain (until the next day).

Plans? What Plans? Award: Amelia Irose

For bailing on her other plans and rolling in ready to crush it like it was always the only plan that mattered. We stand flexibility and loyalty.