The Side Effects of Chemotherapy

This is the seventh in a series of blog posts about my experiences as a cancer patient and survivor. Before we begin, I want to be clear that all opinions expressed here are my own. Nothing that I say in these posts should be taken as medical advice. If you have any questions or concerns, you need to reach out to a licensed medical professional immediately.

One of the most intimidating things for me initially was receiving the BINDER’S WORTH of disclosures about the medications I would be receiving during chemotherapy. Each drug was its own packet–and they were LONG. The biggest section of the packet would be the potential side effects, and they are all awful side effects.

It’s kind of like when you are watching TV and you see a commercial for some drug (why are they even allowed to advertise drugs?), and you hear the list of side effects and think to yourself, “Surely X condition wouldn’t be nearly as bad as all those things?!?”

…that’s chemotherapy.

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I Have the Power… Port

This is the fourth in a series of blog posts about my experiences as a cancer patient and survivor. Before we begin, I want to be clear that all opinions expressed here are my own. Nothing that I say in these posts should be taken as medical advice. If you have any questions or concerns, you need to reach out to a licensed medical professional immediately.

So, before my chemotherapy could begin, I had to have a “port-a-cath” installed. I’d never heard of a Power Port before that day, and now that I know what they are, well…

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My Noisy New Purse

This is the second in a series of blog posts about my experiences as a cancer patient and survivor. Before we begin, I want to be clear that all opinions expressed here are my own. Nothing that I say in these posts should be taken as medical advice. If you have any questions or concerns, you need to reach out to a licensed medical professional immediately.

I know I said my next post was going to be about my diagnosis, but this weekend, I got a noisy new purse and I thought I’d tell you about it.

Background

The day after my surgery, we could tell that there was one area that just wasn’t healing quite right. The bruising was spectacular, if I do say so myself–very dark purple. The surgeon was a little concerned that the area was going to become necrotic (in other words, that the skin wasn’t getting good circulation and that the tissue there was going to die).

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It’s My Cancer, and I’ll Cry If I Want To

This is the first in a series of blog posts about my experiences as a cancer patient and survivor. Before we begin, I want to be clear that all opinions expressed here are my own. Nothing that I say in these posts should be taken as medical advice. If you have any questions or concerns, you need to reach out to a licensed medical professional immediately.

The day began normal enough, I suppose. I got started later than normal–after all, in a Covid world, what’s the point of showering at 5:00 AM to sit on the couch, especially on a Saturday?

I will be honest and admit that I am one of those women who never did what she was supposed to. I was pretty healthy, so I conveniently “forgot” about all of the checkups and self-exams. I can’t really explain what made me do a self-exam in the shower that morning, but I did.

The lump was small and hard. It felt like a marble.

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