Cancer, Chemo, and Other Things…

Chemo starts tomorrow morning at 7am and I’m sorting through a lot of fears and anxieties about that and plenty of other things too. It’s been quite a week.

Tuesday, I took three baths on the same day because I honestly did not know how else to cope. Well, I guess I’ll get back in the bath again, seemed sensible. Now I have solid proof that if you deprive yourself of something long enough, you’ll binge it. After nearly 8 weeks with no baths allowed post-surgery, baths have been my main coping mechanism this week, along with A LOT of time texting and talking to friends.

Let’s start with boobs, shall we?

The short story is, they are gone. At least temporarily.

On November 23rd the breast surgeon removed cancer and all other breast tissue, then handed me over to the plastic surgeon (while I was still unconscious of course) to sew a couple of tissue expanders to my chest wall & close me up. Fun times. I woke in a blur of anesthesia and every week has brought different things. Healing, pain, infection, more healing, some more pain, nervi-ness, tingling, numbness, drain-drama, mobility restrictions, and of course weekly visits to the reconstructive surgeon for “fills”. The tissue expanders are gently filled via saline injections and act as placeholders and “temps” as I go through chemo and await the next major surgery (DIEP — where they create new boobs for me out of my own tummy tissue — pretty cool right? This will likely happen in the June/July timeframe, but holding this plan lightly at this point, given Covid delays.

Fun fact: Insurance companies are mandated to pay for reconstructive surgery. Music to my ears, given the loads of cash we’ve paid them over the years. New boobs and a tummy tuck at the same time — wow — I’d call that a cancer perk.

In other good news…

THE DRAINS ARE FINALLY OUT. Omg, after 5.5 weeks, I think they finally got sick of me cursing at them on the daily and figured they’d worn out their welcome. I was in Leavenworth playing Yahtzee with my family one minute and looking at my left-side drain on the floor the next. Three days later the other one followed suit. Apparently, most people get them out within 2–3 weeks, but I had a stubborn body that was producing too much fluid and swelling.

With two surgeries behind me and 40+ hours of doctors’ appointments, I’m definitely learning to roll with it. The past two weeks alone, there have been blood draws, covid tests, post-op appointments, port placement, oncologist, chemo teach, nutritionist, physical therapist, “fill” appointments, and so much more. I honestly had no idea that managing this would be so time consuming and intense.

Despite losing both my boobs 8 weeks ago, I now feel like that is the least of my worries. Losing my boobs has proven to me that my confidence and sense of self come from so many other things besides my body. That kind of confidence in this American culture was hard-fucking-earned and didn’t come easily. I feared I might freak to see myself flat chested with scars, and while there were certainly some emotional moments as I came to terms with it all, I moved through it with a lot of love from Brad and friends.

I’ve also learned that life doesn’t stop because cancer happened.

This week I’ve had other worries, namely…

Navigating the social media landscape responsibly with Adi. Figuring out how much I can/should work over the next several months as I navigate this long and time-consuming journey. Losing my hair (and maybe my brows and lashes). Nooooooo. And, of course a bit worried about feeling like shit for the next 12 weeks, as I go through weekly chemo treatments. Oh, and wondering if my compromised immune system could lead to grave consequences, should I get Covid.

How I will feel during chemo is still a bit unknown as different people tolerate the drugs differently. At this point I just want to get it going so I can see what it is actually like rather than worry about what it might be like. My oncologist did a wonderful job reassuring & educating me and Brad today about all that could happen (but hopefully won’t). Ultimately, we left our cancer-date assured that all will be ok. Many have gone before me and made it to the other side. Hairless but alive.

I also learned today that SCCA has some pretty stellar and effective anti-viral meds available for cancer patients who have Covid. Now my fear of dying of Covid is much lower.

Brad has joked with me for years that he is going to make me a t-shirt with the words “It’s fine” printed on the front. He says that describes my parenting style. Together Brad and I are complete. Adi recently said she’s grateful to have two parents because according to her, “if it were only you Mom, I’d probably get run over by a car. But if it was only dad, I might be wrapped in bubble wrap…” or something to that effect.

But this week, getting the boundaries right-ish on the social media front felt about as serious as cancer to me.

I’ll admit, I orient towards letting people figure it out for themselves. I believe in teaching self-sufficiency and natural consequences. As a mother, entrepreneur, and adventurer one of my mantras has always been If you can take the worst, take the risk. But there are few things I can recall as a mother that has sent me into a bigger tailspin than social media.

Going outside without a raincoat and getting wet? It’s fine. Forgetting to leave money for the tooth fairy the first time Adi lost a tooth. It’s fine. Just make it seem like the money is there the whole time. Breaking a bone? Even that is fine-ish. But…Irreparably damaging Adi or Ben’s brain development and sense of self-esteem, from poor oversight on social media? Not fine.

Needless to say, I’ve been giving this social media thing a lot of focus and diligence this week. After hours of thinking, consulting my network of fellow parents for advice, researching my ass off, losing sleep, and crying a million tears,

I ended up creating a little mantra for myself to guide me:

Just love the hell outta them and stay engaged. Be their guide not their keeper. Trust yourself and your parenting decisions. Oh, and breathe. It will be ok.

But first, before narrowing it down to that lovely little mantra, I wrote all my wants/fears/concerns/possible solutions in a 627-word document.

I read it to the kids at dinner that night and they listened fairly intently for about the first 150 words and then could not stop laughing. The document includes, what we want for you/us/our family, what we are worried about, tech boundaries to consider. I kept saying wait, I’m not done. Ben kept asking incredulously (which made us all laugh), Mom! Are you seriously not done yet? I’m not known for my brevity, but if you are still reading this, I bet you’ve already figured that out.

In any case, after it was all said and done, we all agreed we’d percolate for a few days and solidify some boundaries based on input from the kids and continuing to research best-practices. Later that night Adi could see I was pretty spun up so she gave me a big squeeze and said, Wow Mom, you and Dad really love us. That’s the minute I knew that everything was going to be ok.

The work front has presented some challenges as well, as I want to be both thoughtful and realistic about what I take on. Wednesday, I was contemplating all of this and nearly paralyzed with anxiety, so I started texting with one of my besties. I shared with her that I have really been struggling with trying to figure out how to know how much I can/should work while going through all this, how much stress I can handle, and feeling worried that I’ll overcommit somewhere.

She wrote me back with this:

Mitch, if you don’t take the time right now while you have cancer to sit around and do nothing you will forever hate your future self. Your body needs to heal not work.

This was exactly the tough love and wisdom I needed.

About 5 minutes after reading this text, I had a call with one of our new clients that I’m very excited about working with. I have not been working since Thanksgiving and this was one of my first serious calls since I’ve been back. I will tell you that Cancer has had a major influence in clarifying for me who/what gives me energy and who/what sucks it dry. I went into this call feeling down, overwhelmed, and on the brink of tears. But, within minutes I felt better. I ended the call an hour later feeling psyched, happy, and extremely passionate. That’s when I realized if I was only going to have a 40–50% work schedule for the next 4–8 months, I’m going to choose the projects & clients that make me feel like THAT.

These two things happening back-to-back (tough love text + exceptional meeting) were pure serendipity and gave me the clarity I needed to say no to some stuff, yes to some stuff, and ultimately lowered my anxiety significantly. It was intense but I think I’ve worked it out to have plenty of time to heal, have time with family & friends (who lift me up tremendously), meaningful work with just a small handful of clients, and even plenty of time for rest, baths & Netflix binges. And, most of all, I trust I will adjust as needed.

This process is so intense. The mere time and energy it takes to process all of this…geez louise.

Lastly, I want to shout out to all of you who have walked Gilly, shown up for me at a moment’s notice to take my call or drive me to an appointment, brought us food, loved on my kids, sent cards and gifts, funny texts, interesting books, show recommendations…and all the hugs. I am lucky beyond belief, and you are all teaching me what amazing friendship and community is all about. Thank you all so much.

Now, off to chemo I go. Let’s get this party started.

love, Mitch