Closing The Chapter

​I know it’s been a while since I’ve updated here.

For those who’ve been following along — thank you for sticking with me, even when I wasn’t posting.

I’ve been sharing here and there over on Instagram.

If you want to follow along: @jjlkh

⸻

Last Kadcyla 💉 | Closing this chapter

Today feels exactly how it should.

Not bright and overwhelming. Not heavy either.

Just steady. A little warm, a little cloudy, calm in a way that lets me move.

I feel good today.

I’m running around, making bread, doing laundry, cleaning the house.

If it were a big sunny, high-energy day, it would actually be too much.

This—right here—is perfect for where I am.

And that feels like the right way to close this chapter.

⸻

To all of you 🤍

Everyone’s cheering, congratulating, asking how I’m celebrating.

I know it comes from a good place, and I appreciate it.

And I have to say this — because since this morning, and especially since I got home, I’ve been completely overwhelmed… in the best way.

The flowers.

The texts.

The treats.

The check-ins.

The love.

I can’t let this day go by without acknowledging all of you.

Because the truth is, this day isn’t really about me.

It’s about the people who showed up, stayed, carried me, distracted me, made me laugh, and didn’t disappear when things got hard.

You got me here.

So today — that’s what I’m recognizing.

No bell. No big moment.

Just a very real thank you.

The honest part 🧠

I started this whole thing with honesty, and I’m ending this chapter the same way.

Because the truth is, this doesn’t just end today.

Kadcyla targeted the HER2 side of my cancer and the micrometastatic disease — cancer cells that are too small to see on scans but can still exist in the body.

That’s the part people don’t always understand.

We treated what we could see… and what we can’t.

Because with micrometastatic breast cancer, we don’t know what those cells will do — grow, stay quiet, or go away. So the goal is to treat it early and aggressively, even when it’s invisible.

This drug is cumulative. It builds over time and doesn’t just disappear when the last infusion is done. It’s still working its way through my body.

Over the next couple of months, I may actually feel worse before I feel better.

It can take 6–12 months before I feel more like myself again — and even then, “myself” will probably look a little different.

The 21-day cycle doesn’t stop just because chemo does.

My body is still on that rhythm — recovering, recalibrating, figuring things out.

⸻

What’s next 🔬

In about 3 months, I’ll see Dr. Juric to start medication for the estrogen-positive side of my cancer — to keep any hormone-driven cells quiet long-term.

Mine is estrogen-positive but progesterone-negative, which makes it a little less predictable — so this part is about long-term management, not just finishing treatment and walking away.

Around 6 months, I’ll do a liquid biopsy — a blood test that looks for tiny bits of tumor DNA in my system (things too small to show up on scans).

There will be some imaging, but that’s just to keep an eye on an area that’s already been seen and isn’t acting like a concern.

⸻

Important update: my hair 💁🏻‍♀️

Yes, it’s still dark.

Yes, I’m growing it.

Not taking votes on short versus long at this time.

The hair has its own agenda. Trust the process.

⸻

Also… I’m not sitting still ✈️

Girls trip in a couple weeks

Colorado May 14 to help Jake move out

Sam Fran’s wedding Memorial Day weekend

And boating season is around the corner 🚤

So if the sun shows up and you’re looking for me…

that’s a pretty safe place to start.

The part I will celebrate 🎉

Next Tuesday my port comes out.

That one — I’ll celebrate.

That one’s for me.