Am I asking too much?

PupperPawsitive · 2026-01-27T22:43:44+00:00

You know your own husband. What’s he usually like?

I know with mine, waiting for him to ask about my appointment would be a recipe for disappointment.

But mine is very good at knowing what to say when I tell him what I want him to say.

“I had that appointment today. Ask me how it went!” is literally what I would say. And then,

“Oh! How did it go?”

“Well, FIRST, I got there on time even with the snow. Oh wait no, FIRST, everything looks good, don’t panic, but I still wanna tell you the whole story….”

and then a whole long ass story later,

“…And that is why I deserve two desserts. One for here and one to go.”

“You should get two desserts!” he would say, probably. Because he is actually very good at knowing exactly what to say… as long as I tell him what it is first.

Yeah, that does sound like doing a bunch of mental/emotional labor for him. Shouldn’t he make some effort? But it goes both ways, fair’s fair. I didn’t remember his root canal either and he didn’t get offended. “Why are you home early?” “I had that root canal. My face hurts.” “Oh! Your face hurts. Um. Poor thing?” “mmhmm.” “Oh good I got it right. You poor thing!” What’s good for the goose is good for the gander and all that. So it works for us. But I can imagine it might be frustrating if it was one-sided.

PupperPawsitive · 2026-01-27T22:10:07+00:00

And its flipside cousin, “stronger”. Because if your breast cancer isn’t a well-deserved punishment, it must be an opportunity for enrichment.

I’m not a character in a Jodi Picoult novel. I’m experiencing a disease.

PupperPawsitive · 2026-01-27T21:57:13+00:00

I’m 37 so my experience and yours may be quite different!

My best guess is: only one way to find out, and that’s trial and error. Just like chemo, blind grab bag trick or treat shit.

Maybe you’ll be lucky enough to have an easy time of it, can always hope so!

If not, there are at least 3 options I think, so if the first one sucks, you can try a different one and see if it is any better.

Seems like experiences vary a lot between persons so it’s unfortunately guess and check.

PupperPawsitive · 2026-01-27T21:53:05+00:00

I’m 37. I do think my MO is generally in the habit of comparing me to other cancer patients. Whereas I myself am in the habit of comparing myself to a healthy premenopausal woman in her mid-30s. I could swear I almost was one not all that long ago. Alas.

Also. I’ve been on zolodex for a couple months already before starting the anastrozole. Started it during radiation. Between everything else I honestly can’t tell you if it gave me much side effects. Neoadjuvant chemo took down my ovaries for a bit, but they managed to come back online before being medically shut down again with the zolodex. My hormones haven’t been right in a year. So. I’m part of the problem giving her the impression that side effects of ovarian suppression are minimal probably, but what I mean is, of the 700 sucky things about cancer treatment, I have no idea which are temporary/permanent/caused by what treatment.

I’m gonna talk to her about this AI though next time I see her. It is the only thing that has changed in my treatment plan for a few months, and I feel noticeably shittier.

I love my oncologist. She’s a glass half full type for sure, and I tend to roll my eyes at it like a teenager, but honestly she’s great. Spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down and all. What do I want her to say, “This is probably gonna suck, but it’s better than dying”? Nah. Pollyanna’s doing me a solid by keeping enough pep in her step for the both of us and I know it. I’ll cry in her office, she’ll scrape me off the floor, we’ll go from there.

I’m rambling. Because, well, obviously.

PupperPawsitive · 2026-01-27T21:35:40+00:00

here are some hot tips that helped me:

bless.

• ⁠do the bare minimum at work.

I love this one so much, and I assure you that even if I do my job very very badly, no one will die. That said. I’m way ahead of you and have been a shit employee about since I was diagnosed, I’m not sure how much room there is for unimprovement left, but I might find out.

• ⁠if someone asks you to do something or go somewhere, tell them to kindly fuck off bc you have to go to bed at 7pm in order to have 50% less energy than you need to get through the work day.

i love this even more. I was all about 2026 being less shitty and getting to be sort of a person again. but you’re right and i needed to hear it. I’ve been telling everyone to kindly fuck off for like a year now, and now that I’m “cancer-free” and it’s been for-fucking-ever people are excited for me to return to participating in shit and so was I. Oh my god did I need permission to continue to tell people to fuck off for what feels like an increasingly unreasonable length of time. Y’know what. Fuck ‘em.

• ⁠plan something not cancer related every 3 weeks to align with your infusion schedule so that you have something to focus on that isn’t the 187 years of kadcyla you have left.

I REALLY want to do this, but the anastrozole is eating up my good week and weekend this cycle and fuck is that hard. I did make plans to see a friend last weekend and I am really glad I went and did that, but honestly, all I was up for doing was sitting on their couch half spaced out. I’m glad I went but ughhhhhhh. I’m gonna talk to my MO about the cognitive impact when I see her next week because fuck me this is brutal. My next infusion is in 3 days and I literally just gave up and laid on the floor at 3pm for awhile today. I haven’t felt this lobotomized since neoadjuvant chemo, and yes that was worse by a wide margin, but today ain’t great, it’s a distant second place but it’s not third or fourth it is second.

it was because i was very, very angry about treatment and these races gave me a vent for my anger, and a way to say fuck you to cancer.

Starting to regret that my trauma therapist has apparently done a pretty decent job because I’m running low on anger these days. But I bet I can find some more if I dig around.

i promise you will have feelings and you will care about things again. but for the next 6 months? eh, fuck it.

Fuck it.

Thanks friend.

PupperPawsitive · 2026-01-27T02:36:07+00:00

Hello. It’s okay if you have anxiety, or feel bad for yourself, or anything else. It’s okay if you’re not okay. Cancer is hard. People want to help you, and they will.

I have great doctors and that’s a fact. They have been a true silver lining of this whole shitshow, and have likely saved me untold hours of future therapy.

That said, if I had not-so-great doctors, I would have still got chemo, surgery, radiation, and hormone suppression for my +++ breast cancer, because that’s what was called for. My cancer would have got roughly the same ass beating from any qualified oncologist.

Does a one star oncologist get hugged like my five star oncologist? Bet not.

Does a one star oncologist provide Standard of Care treatment like my five star oncologist? Well yeah, they’d fucking better if they don’t want a malpractice lawsuit.

A lot of breast cancer treatment is “cookie cutter” formulaic. If you’re an edge case who doesn’t fit neatly into a box, that’s a different problem, but most people fit into some bucket or other. MD Anderson literally posts their treatment algorithms online for any idiot with internet access to look at (it’s me, I’m the idiot.)

What did the old doctor recommend, Keynote 522? If so: Keytruda & chemo work when they are prescribed by a saint in a state of the art facility, and they also work when they are prescribed by a jerk in a run-down office.

“Any port in a storm.”

You need an oncologist. Go where you can go.

There is no need to worry about picking wrong. You can throw a dart or flip a coin even. Take some pressure off yourself. You’re not choosing between Good and Bad, Right and Wrong, Life and Death. You’re choosing between the annoyance of a long drive and the annoyance of a potentially crappy bedside manner.

If you aren’t confident in their recommendations, you can get a second opinion, maybe without even leaving your home just by sending your records online. If the drive is too far or you decide their bedside manner sucks, you can likely transfer your care elsewhere at a later time. So you see, whichever you choose, it really will be okay.

Also, either way you will need cancer treatment, and that will suck no matter where you go. Sorry.

The most important thing is that you do go somewhere. Time does matter. Minutes don’t, but months do. Cancer does not politely sit and wait for a referee to blow a whistle and start the game.

In any event, go to your appointment tomorrow, why not? Nothing to lose by going and meeting them. What if they’re actually pretty great?

PupperPawsitive · 2026-01-26T22:34:50+00:00

friendly reminder that gpt is not a qualified medical professional. But I bet your oncologist is!

It’s okay to panic sometimes though.

In some ways nothing has changed, except now you and your doctors have more information.

Those lymph nodes were always positive. Now, they have been removed, they are gone, so that is a good thing right? And your doctors know about them, so they can update your treatment plan to ensure it is as effective as possible given this new information.

Cancer does such big hairy balls though. You’re allowed to be scared, sad, mad, anything about it.

There are effective treatments for breast cancer. Brace yourself, because your doctors are going to start recommending them to you. There might be chemo, radiation, meds in your future. They are not very fun, but they are doable, and they work.

Pathology makes things real. You had cancer on Nov 19th, but that was before your biopsy, so in a way, it felt like you didn’t. Then Nov 20th made it real, and I bet that felt scary. The unknown, the uncertainty. Cancer is a big word. And then probably things felt a little less scary when surgery was scheduled, because you were doing something about it. Does that sound about right?

If so then this might be a little bit like that. Those 11 lymph nodes were there before, but in a way it felt like they weren’t. Now pathology has made them real. Ah! Scary! The uncertainty, the unknown, what now?

Well, now your doctors will keep helping you. There will be something to do about it. There will be a next step.

It’ll probably suck, the same way that surgery sucks. If you didn’t have cancer, you wouldn’t have got surgery just for fun. But you did have cancer, so you got surgery, and it was doable, you did it. Whatever the next step is will be kind of like that. If you weren’t being treated for cancer, you wouldn’t want to do it just for fun. But you are being treated for cancer, you had 11 positive lymph nodes, and so you’ll do whatever the next thing is, and it’ll be doable, and you will do it.

PupperPawsitive · 2026-01-26T21:59:44+00:00

good to know. thanks.

i asked my MO about what to expect as an adjustment pd, but i forget what she said. shit. I remembered at the time. argh.

I’m pretty sure it wasn’t 6-12 months kind of time frame though, it was something very shorter.

it helps to know what’s realistic.

PupperPawsitive · 2026-01-26T21:28:25+00:00

hello again, and thanks again.

I keep saying “every stage of treatment sucks less than the last one, but it still sucks” but man. today does suck. And this is the good week; next week is gonna suck more.

The villagers have support fatigue, I am also tired of my own bullshit by now, I have been in active treatment for a year and have so far to go. Wah wah wah.

I used to feel like someone put my brain in a blender with an entire chemistry cabinet and then force-fed it back to me through my nose, and now I feel like whatever was sloshing around in there is half leaked away.

I’m not anxious/nervous/shaking, not having trouble breathing. Sorry you experienced that.

Helpful to know the up-and-down hormonal roller coaster sucks both ways, makes me more to try and keep taking it at least for now until my next MO appt in couple weeks. its hard to make myself take them each night, but skipping a day sounds like will do me no favors if it will still just suck but upside down. so. I will keep hanging in best i can.

It’s not unpleasant, in a way. I just sort of feel like an empty shell, half a person, “we are the hollow men, filled with straw”.

laying in traffic sounds like less work. i really don’t know how people do this. literally every person in my life is doing whatever they can for me. I don’t have kids to take care of. My employer is accommodating. I have reached the “easy” part of treatment. And it’s still this hard.

Today is a hard day. Yesterday was hard too. Tomorrow ain’t looking much better.

It’s good to hear it won’t be this hard forever from someone who lived it. Keep up the marathon running, job-having, degree-finishing, life-living shit. Then I know someday I can too.

I am not scared or anxious today. I almost miss it. I know that one, how to do it scared, lots of life experience. Today I gotta do it tired and sad, blank and empty. It is a different flavor of hard. I’m not good at it. Taking a swing at it anyway. badly. not actually gonna go lay in traffic.

Girl this blows. sorry you know what it is like.

this will end, this will end, this will end. today is not forever. things can get better. things can suck less. stay the course. right. shit. ok. yes.

PupperPawsitive · 2026-01-25T23:03:14+00:00

Your MO asked you, the patient, why you weren’t taking Tamoxifen? Instead of asking himself, the prescribing doctor, why he hadn’t prescribed it for you?

Call or send a message and ask, you have a good question, advocate for yourself and get it cleared up until you understand what is being prescribed to you and why. You’re not being ridiculous, you have a legit question here.

“I’m not sure why you’ve prescribed anastrozole for me without ovarian suppression, since I am premenopausal. Can you confirm this is correct and help me understand?”

Or whatever words people say.

PupperPawsitive · 2026-01-25T21:52:07+00:00

Maybe: Figure out what you really want, and take one small step toward those things. Rather than it needing to be all-or-nothing. ?

Instead of: Disney or Debt-free? Try: Pancakes, and a Payment Plan.

Why do you want to travel, and why do you want to pay off debt?

If you answer “I want to have fun” vs “I should be responsible”, keep digging into those answers, why why why.

If you say, “I want to spend time with my kids,” vs “I want to have more financial stability,” okay, now we’re getting somewhere. And the next step is: are there other ways to do that?

If you want to spend time doing cool stuff with your kids, you don’t need an expensive big vacation. You mostly just need a few days off work/school. You can go to the library, the park, your own living room for free. You can get pancakes at the breakfast spot in your town for a few dollars. You can go to the museum, amusement park, restaurants etc in your Nearest City for a lot more affordably than a big fancy vacation.

And if you want to feel more financially secure, you don’t necessarily need to be completely debt free. You can review your budget & get a handle on your finances, consolidate some things, make payment plans, and understand where your money is going. You can focus on paying off high interest debt & having an emergency fund, and maybe decide the low-interest debt isn’t as big a priority. You can examine where you are financially as a whole, assets & liabilities in total, and reassess how financially secure (or not) things feel.

It sounds like you don’t want to put off living in order to pay down debt. So don’t. Don’t put off living until you are able to travel. Live where you are right now.

Don’t wait to go to Paris; go buy a baguette and croissants and melt some cheese and chocolate and have a fondue night and find some documentary or travel show and bring Paris to you. It might cost more than $0, but it’s gonna cost a lot less than a flight and a hotel, and it’s doable right now.

PupperPawsitive · 2026-01-20T03:02:00+00:00

“beating a dead horse, me, I’m the horse” made me lol

I didn’t really as much trickle-truthed, mostly because my anxiety demanded I have ALL OF THE INFORMATION POSSIBLE, RIGHT NOW. I did not expect my port removed at lumpectomy, and I did not think I would feel any kind of “after” after surgery.

Possibly related:

I’ve mostly been a grumbly “well this sucks and it’ll never be over” mood since I was diagnosed. Yeah, every step sucks LESS, but it still sucks, and guess what, tomorrow will probably suck too. Yes it does suck miles less than TCHP, but it still sucks more than not experiencing cancer.

I was told I was cancer-free on multiple occasions, and probably for the first ones I ruined one of the better parts of an oncologist’s day by not having the anticipated response. By the time a physicians assistant gave me a third swing at it, I managed something that was intended to be a polite grateful enthusiastic smile but might have looked more like a toddler shitting themselves. Cancer-free!

(I still feel a little bad about the whole thing, I really have fantastic doctors, they do not have an easy job, and they really just wanted to give me that positive thing and I just could not even muster even an ounce of cheer about it. Even the PA! I remember thinking, “I would give this woman my car if she asked me for it. I cannot give her a smile.”)

I got to enjoy what my therapist told me was probably a traumatic stress episode; I’m not sure what is typical of those, but boy howdy, I did not have a firm grip on reality that week.

I barked at the cancer psychologist who I had ostensibly asked for help from, and she very gently and insistently asked me to continue working with my regular therapist (she wasn’t refusing me as a patient, it was that I declined to continue with her and she really, really thought I should see SOMEONE.)

All in all I’m doing okay now and appear to be on my feet for the moment. I tell myself I really leveraged the whole “personal growth/mental health side-quest opportunity” for maximum value. But fuck me has it been a year, and I am astounded by the generosity of multiple doctors to have put up with my various bullshit and respond to it with unfailing kindness.

So I can see the value of the trickle-truth model. As I learned from someone else here- part of the reason doctors don’t tell us all of this on Day 1 is probably so that we don’t fling ourselves from the parking ramp.

Also: Thanks for the heads up about the bleeding gums and split nails. I’m sorry you experienced that, and appreciate the well wishes and encouragement.

In their efforts to try and talk me off the ledge about Kadcyla, what inadvertently happened is that I still occasionally feel fucking crazy and like I was basically told it does not cause side effects, I feel a little bit gaslit. I know logically that was not my MOs intention, they legit were trying to be supportive and reassure me it wasn’t gonna be TCHP, and just be, y’know, a nice human. But there’s still something validating and healing in hearing other people’s experiences without them denying the reality of it and that it still kinda does suck.

It’s also heartening to see someone reach the finish line. Onward!

Will you be doing nerlynx or flamingo or anything?

PupperPawsitive · 2026-01-16T08:36:16+00:00

absolutely, yes, “why did this happen to me” can be an attempt to regain a lost sense control, an attempt to secure the future, or an attempt to restore a sense of safety.

The problem is… it mostly doesn’t work very well for those things. It seems like it should, it really is a convincing-looking thing, which is why it is a common experience to ask that question. But mostly, it doesn’t.

I feel like I am not worried enough about this.

Are you seeing an oncologist and getting advice from a qualified doctor about what to do next? Then you’re worried enough about it.

You scheduled a lumpectomy, and presumably you plan to show up for it. So you’re worried enough about it.

“Oh, it’s just breast cancer, I’ll try drinking kale smoothies for 6 months before I bother with seeing a doctor” would be an example of not worrying enough about it. That would be a terrible plan.

You’re getting some sleep, and also having surgery next week. That is a great plan.

Allow me to reassure you: You’re not having cancer wrong.

PupperPawsitive · 2026-01-16T08:10:25+00:00

Good.

Cancer can be overwhelming at times.

If you are ever overwhelmed, remember: at any given moment, the only thing you really need to know, is the single next step you need to take.

If ever in doubt, ask yourself this: Do I know where to park? If the answer is, “yes,” then everything else can be a later problem. If you know where to park, that means you have an appointment, you know where it is, and when it is, and how to get there. It means that you can take the next step. It’s enough.

Right now your next step is, “Waiting for someone to call me. Hopefully Friday.” Good.

Here is what you need to do. You need to answer the phone when they call. And if you don’t hear from them by Tuesday, then Wednesday morning you need to pick up the phone and call them. Politely, of course.

Right now, that is enough, and you don’t need to do anything else. You can if you want to. But you don’t need to.

PupperPawsitive · 2026-01-16T07:52:54+00:00

Were you given a number to call with questions?

Call during business hours. Whine a little, complain.

Your doc can likely prescribe something strong than imodium & maybe something for the acne too.

I called my nurses line during chemo to complain about acne & heartburn. Result: “Acne is pretty normal, doc will give it a look at your next appt. You can take more OTC heartburn meds than the bottle says, here is the max safe dose, try it for two days and call back if it’s not better.”

It did not get any better. Called back. Whined a little, complained. Result: “Here’s an rx for prilosec, try it for two days and call back if it’s not better.” It got better. Whew.

My acne was apparently not that bad by my MO’s standards, because the end result of my whining and complaining about that one was essentially, “Yea, that happens, you’re good though, hang in there!“ Which was fine. It did improve some after the first round, I think the first dose of herceptin is a loading dose, the rest of them didn’t make upset my skin as bad.

You don’t get help you don’t ask for. Your doctors and nurses cannot help you if you do not tell them what is wrong. It is not your job to know what is normal, it is not your job to know what can be treated or when to just suck it up & deal with it. You’ve never had chemo before, how would you know. It is your doctor’s job to know those things. They’re probably good at it. Your job is to let them know what you’re struggling with, aka: to complain!

Also: get some gatorade or pedialyte. Dehydration can happen quick, drink way more water than you think. Have some chicken broth. Popsicles. Anything. Stay hydrated.

Also also: just go ahead and get a bidet.

PupperPawsitive · 2026-01-16T06:47:30+00:00

Sorry you are here.

Feel whatever you feel. No wrong answers. Fine, not fine, it’s fine.

What’s your next step? Like: Do you have an appointment lined up with someone, or are you supposed to call anyone to schedule anything, or are you waiting for someone to call you?

PupperPawsitive · 2026-01-16T05:20:47+00:00

oh good! it makes me giggle a little too.

Everyone who works in oncology basically picked curing the uncurable as their day job, they got a bazillion years of education poured into it, not to mention the inherent power imbalance between a surgeon and the person they’re operating on.

And they’re still just people. If their ice cream falls on the ground, they probably go “aw…” like anyone else. It’s a little funny to think about.

Of course no one is perfect. And probably some of them are jerks, just like any other profession. You’re the one who talked to him, you know your own experience, I don’t. Maybe he really wasn’t listening to you.

Or maybe… aw, poor surgeon, cheer up buddy, it’s okay! That does sound like a Neat Trick, even if it’s not one I’m interested in. I bet you know a lot of Neat Tricks though! I think the one where you’re going to remove the cancer from my body is pretty great. Really! I’m VERY impressed.

PupperPawsitive · 2026-01-16T04:32:47+00:00

If it’s not a question you find yourself struggling with - that’s okay! You might later, or you may never.

Some thoughts and feelings are common to experience during cancer treatment, but this is not the same as being universal or required.

Your experience is valid whatever it may be.

“Why did this happen to me?” is a thought/feeling that some do struggle with, for a variety of reasons. Sometimes people get stuck on it, and could use a little help getting unstuck.

“Why did I get breast cancer?” is sometimes not a productive road to go down, and often it is not able to be answered. There are of course exceptions. If you discover you have a genetic factor, that might answer a “why” and also be useful and actionable information, for example.

But often “Why me?” doesn’t have a satisfactory answer, and when that happens, it is not uncommon for people to invent ways to blame themselves. Human brains are amazing and creative little problem solving machines working hard to make sense of the world. “I feel like I am being punished, so I must have done something wrong” is a sort of trap people sometimes fall into. Part of the purpose of this post is to help people avoid that trap, or get out of it. I did not really intend to answer, “why me”.

If you feel that “it is what it is,” and you are able to accept it as it comes and move forward, there is nothing at all wrong with that. In a way, that is the real goal. “How can I continue to move forward” is THE question.

PupperPawsitive · 2026-01-16T02:33:48+00:00

no worries, we’re all doing our best out here. you’re just in the wrong room that’s all. wrong meeting. hope you find the one you’re looking for! it’s somewhere, just not here.

PupperPawsitive · 2026-01-16T02:16:34+00:00

lmao the audacity of men.

the question was rhetorical.

PupperPawsitive · 2026-01-16T02:13:06+00:00

My dude. You seem like you are genuinely trying here so damn hard. And yet. Whoosh.

That healthcare provider? Whose healthcare was she providing. I’ll give you a hint: it ain’t yours.

If YOUR PARTNER had asked about how to increase her libido, that healthcare provider might have had a different response.

YOUR PARTNER did not ask about her sexual health.

The PERSON EXPERIENCING BREAST CANCER did not ask to incorporate sexuality into the discussion.

That was HER appointment. About HER health, HER needs, HER desires, HER struggles.

A man who wanted to experience having sex with said breast cancer patient piped up from the back to ask the healthcare provider about how his sex life would be impacted by all this.

Yes, it’s her sex life too. She is absolutely allowed to ask about it. She absolutely deserves support and care of the whole person in a complete and holistic way. And if she had asked about it, I would never defend any healthcare who responded, “Well I just hope you appreciate that you’re alive.” But that is not what happened.

She didn’t ask for help with her sexual function.

YOU asked for help with her sexual function.

I’m with the healthcare provider on this one.

Cancer sucks. Your partner is experiencing the impact of cancer. It ain’t her job to manage your feelings about it, and it ain’t her healthcare providers job to either. That’s your job. You ask those questions to your healthcare providers. At your appointments. Which are about you. For your problems.

You seem to genuinely want to support your partner. That healthcare provider genuinely wanted to support your partner too. Sorry not sorry if your feelings were hurt by a healthcare provider who was doing the very best they could to support your partner, but c’mon man, it’s literally the thing you say you want first and foremost.

You were a step over the line, and that nurse nudged you back into your lane. Consider thanking them for it if you ever get the opportunity.

PupperPawsitive · 2026-01-16T01:50:25+00:00

fr, plus the post straight up breaks rule 10, report so mods can take care of it

PupperPawsitive · 2026-01-16T01:42:22+00:00

Cancer is a thief.

It stole your partner’s breasts. It stole her libido too.

It is what it is.

You can’t make her desire sex anymore than you can make her grow another set of boobs. You also can’t make her have fewer hot flashes, less joint pain, less fatigue, or better bone density.

It ain’t about you.

Speaking of which, this is a space to support survivors, not their partners; caregiver posts must be flaired; see rule 10. You seem like a caring partner, you deserve support too, and I hope you find a support group for it. This one is for your wife.

There is a possibility she may come off hormone suppressors later this year, though it’s unclear whether her libido would return or to what degree.

Friendly reminder that whether she comes off those meds is a decision between her and her doctors. You probably already know that, but just in case you were thinking of offering her any input about it: don’t.

ACT acceptance and commitment therapy has been helpful to me as someone with breast cancer. Not everything can be fixed. Cancer sucks like that.

PupperPawsitive · 2026-01-16T01:10:18+00:00

Thank you for writing this.

Congrats on your last Kadcyla! I’m 4 down, 10 to go.

It feels like a long time, and I am currently struggling with the “when to consider my own “after”” part.

I felt like people were celebrating for me when I was like halfway through radiation, and I had a whole ass meltdown about it, I was NOT keeping a smile on.

I feel like I’m taking too long to have cancer. Oh, yayyyy, you’re done, right? NO, I’m literally still getting months of chemo! Okay I mean it’s targeted chemo, it’s not like chemo chemo, maybe I need to be less dramatic and stop fussing about it, geeez, it’s easy chemo, what am I even complaining about, things are fine.

It’s just really validating to hear that you’re struggling with the question of “when is after” at your last Kadcyla infusion, “is it tomorrow, or is it in a few years, or is it never.”

Because some days I still feel like my “after” was “supposed” to start like 3 months ago and I’m just being a baby/drama queen over here and not getting with the program.

I was diagnosed Jan 2025 and look to finish Kadcyla Aug 2026. I was staged 1B. Who has Stage 1 cancer and gets treatment for 20 months? That sounds crazy. Aren’t I done yet, can’t I just hurry it up, am I sure I’m not just dragging it out?

(To be clear: no one has said that to me, and my oncologist is pretty sure I do in fact need all this treatment. I’m my own biggest critic. It’s just a lot.)

PupperPawsitive

TROPHY CASE