11 Years with Breast Cancer: Someone Forgot to Send the Break-Up Text.

August 11 Preview Let’s just start with the obvious: Round 3 of chemo hits August 11. While T-DM1 isn’t the full-body demolition crew that TCHP was, it still managed to drag me into the fatigue club while casually rearranging my organs. My skin’s officially starting to toast, my labs read like I’m 90 and just ran a marathon, and my EKG had everyone scratching their heads. But it’s “not acute,” just inflammation and the classic: “We’ll keep an eye on it.” Translation: let us know when things start falling off. ✅ Breathless? Yep. ✅ Feels like Milo is sitting on my chest? Also yes. ✅ Tired? Please. ✅ Brain won ’ t stop? Naturally. So we ride. Radiation & Chemo Watch: Internal Combustion Lite Radiation is daily, and I haven’t burst into flames—so we’re counting that as a win. My chest wall is glowing (inside and out), and I’ve officially hit halfway: 15 out of 30 sessions done. Meanwhile, my bloodwork is giving full chaotic energy. One test basically said, “Ther...

  The Backstage Pass Crew After the last blog I wrote, I kind of thought I wrapped everything up with a neat little bow. Done. Finito. Moving on. But then you —my true ride-or-die crew—kept showing up. Every single one of you who’s getting this kept reaching out, checking in, giving hugs, dropping off snacks, or just being there . You’ve continued to listen , hold me up , and quietly remind me that I’m not alone . I figured I’d stop writing and just keep moving, because honestly, you people don’t need much—you just show up with love, snacks, and psychic-level intuition.   But then I realized I wasn’t sharing anymore. And suddenly I was back to texting updates, responding to people, trying to remember who knew what and when , and it turned into one of those “did I leave the stove on?” spirals, except with cancer updates instead of fire hazards. Ahhhhhhhhhhh!! There has to be a better way. And there is. I realized I can still blog , but it doesn’t need to be for the ma...