Another round of chemo down.
We’re officially in the back half…
of Chemo Part One.

My primary goal this week was to get a clearer sense of timelines from Dr. Cannon (colorectal oncologist) and Dr. Yacur (breast oncologist), because my mental health really needs something to look forward to.

I’m trying to figure out where the windows of opportunity are for me to get away, or maybe even work a day or two. While the chemo side effects are getting worse (fatigue, cold sensitivity, hair thinning, early mucositis, GI stuff), I can tell you: the mental side of this is by far the most challenging.

It is extraordinarily difficult to not know how I will feel at any given time.
Which means I can’t really plan anything.

Dr. Cannon said that all-in, we’re probably looking at Thanksgiving as a point when I might be done with his side of things. But he wasn’t totally clear on what the exact next steps are.

Here’s what I think it looks like based on past conversations and the PROSPECT trial:

Finish this part of chemo → surgery 1 (breast 2.0) → MRI → surgery 2 (colorectal, likely with a temporary ostomy) → six more rounds of chemo (maybe abridged? no oxaliplatin?) → ostomy reversal → continue Herceptin, add Tamoxifen.

But Dr. Cannon’s uncertainty makes sense. We don’t really know how I’m responding yet. And we won’t know what’s next until the MRI—which is scheduled for the last week in June. 

We need the tumor to have shrunk more than 20% to skip radiation and move straight to surgery. And the MRI is what will give us that info. 

(“But why do you have to wait two months for an MRI, Alli?” you may be asking. Remember, fun dual-cancer problem: I can’t have the MRI sooner because I need the tissue expander–which has metal in it—out before I can do an MRI, and I need weeks between chemo and the surgery to get the expander out so that it’s safe enough to actually do a surgery.)

So… we have to wait.

And sit in the unknown.

Which has never been a strength of mine.

Or any human’s, really.

So, in short: things are getting tougher.

When I told Dr. Cannon about the increase in side effects—especially the fatigue, which is the hardest part because it keeps me from moving my body and thinking clearly, which then hits my mental health the most—he said there’s not much to be done. My side-effects aren’t bad enough to warrant a reduction in dosage.

We just have to “push through the last few rounds,” he said

It’s hard to push through when you’re this exhausted.

But I heard him:

This is the grind.
This is where you get gritty.

And somewhere deep inside me, there is enough to get through it.

There has to be.
There is no other choice.

But here’s one bright spot I’m clinging to:

There are four and a half weeks between my last chemo “unplug” day and breast surgery 2.0, which means there is a 10-14 day window (after acute chemo recovery and before pre-op appointments) where I could get away. I’d just have to make sure that in that window I’m also focusing on recovery so that I can withstand the surgery.

But, dual-cancer fun-time: my first Herceptin-only infusion (which happens every three weeks after FOLFOX through March 2027, for the breast cancer, remember?) falls in that window of time.

Which sucks.

Except it doesn’t.

Because when I told Dr. Yacur that I was really hoping to get away during that 10-14 day window of time, she said, do it. Herceptin can be moved a week here and there. And she said, “it’ll do you more good to go away than to get this on this exact date.” She also said that if I ever need to change things in the future to let her know and she will always tell me if something will compromise my care.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I love that my team is, yes, primarily focused on saving my life, but they are all also very focused on making sure I have a good quality of life as well. 

Because, frankly, I’m too young for this shit.

As for my greater future at large? Much more unknown and much more overwhelming.

P.S. PT is still going well. I’m dropping down to 1x/wk for now. Still doing acupuncture 1x/wk for chemo side-effect mitigation and am enjoying eating all the real foods in these non-chemo “active recovery” weeks.I feel like a bear moving in and out of hibernation—
eating everything I can, whenever I can,
before getting my ass kicked again.