DebbY Does Chemo

(A Blog about Breast Cancer, but Funnier)

In early September 2016, I was diagnosed with Stage 3 breast cancer. I had plans—a growing dog-related business, a 20+-year career in proposal management, a passion for European travel, family and friends—and cancer took a big crappola on all of that. This blog captures my experience with cancer—doubt, diarrhea, dark days, and even delight (at times)—and into recovery.

Even though the blog was written several years ago—I think it’s still relevant to anyone wanting a front row seat to what it’s like to look cancer in the hairy eyeball.

The blog isn’t dead, though I do post less frequently! I write as the spirit moves me. So, please do subscribe. And, I’d also love it if you’d hop on over to my other blog on this page: Debby Does Destinations.

NOTE: THIS IS A BLOG POST I WROTE in 2019 BUT NEVER RELEASED.

All is well, and I didn’t have brain cancer :)

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**Warning: there may be an abundance of swearing in this post.**

So, it's 6am at my folk's house outside of Boston. I've been wide-eyed awake all night, doing an Olympic gold effort mind-fuck on myself. A good thing is that I've become a bit more comfortable posting here--even without all of your wonderful thoughts, posting is a positive outlet (blogging is a release for me, but can't do that at moment-can't let certain information get to some family/friends).

(This next bit is the swearing part, and the part that may end up being non-sensical word vomit, brain dump).

Brain abnormalities? No thanks… I would have preferred a new car, a new stove, a make-over…anything else please.

Cognitive chemo brain issues continue. Mind-boggling (pardon the pun) and so incredibly frustrating. I give a flawless lecture and handle tough Q&A--then get in my car, drive 5 exits in the wrong direction and can't figure out how to line the fucking credit card strip up with the card reader at the gas pump. Work has been really hard (work was THE thing I'm good at) and I've been on reduced hours for nearly two years now. Having a functioning brain is somewhat important to what I do. If I had the energy, I'd make lemonade with lemons and take this as an opportunity to explore a new career (where I don’t need to think all that much…good luck)--but I'd rather at the moment take those lemons and make myself a good stiff drink.

Latest fucking MRI shows "brain abnormalities" (hahaha--I always knew I was weird, but). The ass kicker--they don't explain chemo brain--and I'm looking at something new. I would have preferred a new car, a new stove, a make-over--not a new condition, thanks. More tests on the horizon.

And, we're bringing dad home from rehab this morning. He's not doing well, but my mom and he insist on him being home. I'm sure many of you relate--but managing aging/sick parent situation from out of state is like sucking a whole turkey through a straw--totally ineffective and impossible. I'm dreading today--now knowing what this transition home will look like. I don't think it will be pretty. Seeing the safety seat on the toilet in dad's bathroom was the kick to the head reminder that this ain’t gonna get fucking better.

Long post holy shit--thanks for reading. Is there a word limit...?

(In an attempt to think of something good...my dog training hobby business is going gangbusters and I launched a new therapy dog training program. My dog classes are the only thing I feel competent at these days...so I'm hanging on to that!)

Over and out...