In Which the Lens Breaks.

Bad news.

The chemotherapy didn’t work, and the tumor has grown. Nearly doubled in size. “Suspect lesions” are on my lungs, three of them, and indicate possible metastases. We are meeting with the doctor on Monday to discuss next steps.

The whole goal of this last round of chemotherapy was to shrink the tumor in order to make it operable. But it’s not. And the aggressive regimen,  Taxotere and Xeloda, didn’t work. This tumor, it is wily. It is a fist that wants to gain strength, knock me out.

man couple people woman
Fuck you back, cancer. Fuck to the fuck to the fuckety fuck you. 

I am trying to breathe. Trying not to weep. Trying to go through the motions of going through the day, coffee and dishes and laundry and errands – but it’s all clouded with: How much time do I have left? And grief. An undertow of grief that wipes my vision, causes my muscles to fail. When I think of my daughter, I cannot – cannot –

We haven’t yet told her. We’re waiting for a plan.

Already I’m feeling the physical losses: nerve pressure and pain under my arm, fatigue, an inability to stand for more than 10 minutes at a time. I know, from friends who’ve passed, how quickly things can go. One month, six weeks, six months, a year? And how much pain will this body have to endure?

I am trying to keep calm. Trying to make coffee. Trying to think of tomorrow’s dinner, the next home project, the next writing piece.

How much time left?

Fracture. Breaking glass.

Shards and shards and shards.

5 thoughts on “In Which the Lens Breaks.”

  1. Oh no. That just breaks my heart for you and your husband and of course, you daughter. It’s my fear with my own cancer and I guess the fear of everyone with this fucking disease. I’m so, so sorry. I’ve only recently started following you here but I’m sending love and light your way. {{gentle hugs}}


  2. Secret Agent,
    Many thanks for your kind thoughts and words. I am on the fulcrum of a lot of unknowns, and it’s causing a lot of fear. I really appreciate the support.


  3. As a fellow TN I am so sad for you and your family! I know how fast these tumors can grow:(
    Have you been on carboplatin yet or Immunotherapy? I hope you get a treatment plan in place quickly!
    Sending you lots of healing thoughts!!


  4. Carefree, thank you so much. Us TNBC sisters are a “rarer” breed so it means a lot to hear from you. Our next steps will include consulting with Stanford about clinical trials and/or immunotherapies. Thank you for your healing thoughts. Strength to you, too.


    1. I am glad that you are able to consult with a big center. I am sorry not to have better words for you. Just breathe! The waiting for test results and treatment plan are just brutal.
      Also CBD oil really works well for pain! Not sure if it is legal where you live or if a doctor can prescribe it for you. Just thought I mention it…
      I will check for your next update! Be kind to yourself!

      Liked by 1 person

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