My Feet, My Feet, My Feet Are on Fire! 

Gosh, it’s been so long since I’ve posted, I had to look back and see where I left off. And looking back, I had completely forgotten about Puke Fest 2017. It was all a blur… 

Puke Fest is officially over and I never had to actively participate. Meaning no puke from this gal. But straight off of Puke Fest, I entered Mood Swing Mania. Maybe that’s why I haven’t posted in a couple of weeks. You would not have wanted to hear what I had to say anyway. Looking back at my ‘notes’ from the last couple of weeks, I was in a dark, dark place. I felt completely alone even with the most amazing support system someone could ever ask for. I felt like the only people who would get it, were/are the people who have been through it and they’re all spread out around the world. And what I really needed was one of them to physically grab me by the shoulders, shake me and then hug the crap out of me. 

I have absolutely cried more times in the last few weeks than I did with both pregnancies AND my diagnosis put together. But I am feeling much better these last few days, though John may have a different opinion. I’d been having a hard time processing feelings and kept having the urge to call my parents to talk about it. Then, like a smack in the head, I’d remember I can’t. Even after all these years, sometimes I forget. I know they are always ‘there’ but I needed to hear their actual voices, I needed their words of guidance and comfort. I remember telling John that I felt like a tumbleweed of emotions rolling from room to room, picking up more crap along the way. It was the truth. 

It also doesn’t help that it’s October and everywhere I look, it’s pink. I appreciate it when the proceeds actually go to research for a cure. But companies that sell pink ‘for awareness’ and are really only in it for the profit, they sicken me.  I am aware of breast cancer. You all are aware. Now we need to find a cure. 

🙋🏻me

Also adding to my medical menopausal mood swings and stress has been a change in employment, I’ve recently rejoined the working world with a new company. Starting something new always makes me nervous and this is no different. Add to it, leaving my kids for such long periods has been an adjustment. 

Making the decision to leave Seneca for a new position was difficult and emotionally taxing. The staff had become my Orange County family. I found amazing friendships, endless support and tons of love. I grew professionally and personally through my time there and am forever grateful for the opportunities given to me. 

Ultimately, I made the decision to find part time employment so that I can spend more time with my babies. My new company is great. I really enjoy the work I am doing and the people I get to spend my time with. Everyone has been super welcoming and I am thankful for this new adventure. 

I know I talk about my acupuncturist often but I can’t help it, she’s great!! I even told her this week she’s been a part of my rad lady posse and I think she digs it. I am so thankful for her, she continues to help me through these crazy times with her patience, skill, knowledge, etc. Bless her heart, if I had to repeat myself as much as she does to me, I’d say ‘peace out, crazy kid’. But she doesn’t. She has found her purpose and she’s damn good. Every session with her, I leave feeling like I can handle anything. 

My last report stated that my feet and hands weren’t terribly painful from the new chemo. Well that shit changed quick- about day 9 of my second cycle on Xeloda I could barely walk. My feet felt on fire, swollen and tender. As if I had walked across burning coals.  My fingers were also in pain. At each crease, it felt like the skin may rip open.  Last Wednesday was my last dose of that cycle and within one day off X, my feet and hands already felt some relief. They’re not 100% better but tolerable. I start back up this Wednesday for another two weeks. 

Style. The only way to walk around the house without crazy pain. 🦄

On Friday, I got to see all my Kaiser friends. It’s absolutely insane how comfortable I feel there, my home away from home. I guess it’s better to feel comfortable than freaked out and damaged every time I enter those doors, yeah? My hysterectomy follow up was great. I got cleared to take baths and even go back to yoga. Thank goodness because those are two of my main coping skills for life. 

The Filloon Fam recently got to take some beautifully fantastic family photos thanks to The Magic Hour Foundation. They are a foundation that partners with local photographers who provide photo sessions at no cost for families fighting cancer. Our photos turned out perfect, it makes my heart happy each time I look at them. Not only were we able to download the pics but they sent us a beautiful photo box with 5×7 prints of all of them! It’s great how something as simple as family pictures can make such a huge impact. 

Just a few of my favs 💜

I guess that’s all for now, I’ll be sure to update with the next cycle of Xeloda. Here’s a few highlights from the last couple of weeks. ✌🏻

Wyatt got his first haircut 💙
The dudes pumpkin patching. 🎃
Boys’ first USC game 🏈

Puke Fest 2017 


The past week has been my most challenging week as a mom, I think. Thankfully, my mood swings had started to lessen right before the madness.  Maybe it’s because my thyroid test came back all crappy and my meds were increased therefore, helping me to ‘level’ out. Or it could be because I was so dang busy cleaning up puke that I didn’t have time to feel anything. 

Both kids ended up with the stomach bug, of course at the same time. This was my first experience of taking care of pukey kids and it was intense. It all started with Wyatt projectile vomiting while Harlon was sitting in the dentist chair last Friday. And when I say projectile, I mean it didn’t even get on me or him (Wyatt was sitting in my lap and gave no warning) It shot straight out and onto the floor. I was shocked and embarrassed and super flustered. Thankfully the tech was all good and so sweet.  She even told me that her daughter did the same thing once while at Olive Garden all over the table. One mama looking out for another. 💜

Taken LITERALLY moments before Puke Fest 2017 kicked off.

He seemed totally fine after the ‘incident’ so I thought nothing of it. Until Monday morning- it was Harlon’s turn. Holy crap man. I could have hopped on a raft and floated my butt right out if this house on a river of bodily fluids between both kids. It was a constant cycle of vomit, crap, tears, cleaning, laundry, repeat. Most of the tears were from the kids. But for real, I cried hard when Harlon whacked me in the eye with his (thank goodness empty) puke bowl. Yeah, still hurts. Looking back now, I still agree, it was a shitty week. But we survived and I’m pretty proud of myself for never vomiting when they did. That’s a huge step for someone with a gnarly gag reflex like me. I impressed myself. 😉 Both have recovered and so far, I seem to be in the clear and feeling fine. ***knock on wood***

Speaking of puke- not really because I don’t think I actually puked after my first chemo- I can’t remember- but needed some sort of transition here… Thanks to Timehop, I was reminded that one year ago yesterday, I had my first chemo treatment. I remember waddling my post c section booty into the infusion center not knowing what was coming next. It’s funny now, I’m still on chemo but it’s such a different process. No weekly visits and being poked. And so far, my side effects are minimal. I started my second cycle of Xeloda this last Wednesday and things are still ok. A bit of skin has started to peel on my left pinky toe and the pads of my feet are red but the pain I was feeling before has gone away for now. These are all side effects that I have been prepared for so I’ve been loading my hands and feet up with creams and Bag Balm nightly to help with it all. 


Timehop also reminded me that a year ago today, I decided to control what I could in this mess and we shaved our heads in the backyard. I wouldn’t change a thing about it. John and Harlon went first to support me and then it was my turn. It wasn’t as emotionally difficult or bizarre as I imagined it would be. And I was grateful that I was able to donate my long locks to Pantene Beautiful Lengths so that someone else would be able to receive a free wig while battling C. 


I’m also way grateful that I’ve documented this all along the way. It helps me to remember all that I have accomplished, all the feelings I have felt, all of the support I’ve had and continue to have, and so much more. 💜

Just for fun- this is what it would look like if I had a purple haired daughter 😜

Menopause Sucks 

I’ve been eating my feelings lately. Mainly with Trader Joe’s Pumkin Biscotti. To be real- I’ve written a lot of this post in tears. Some in anger. And some just feeling blah. Maybe it’s the menopause. Maybe it’s all of the bad news my pink sisters have been receiving lately- because they aren’t just stories anymore- they are my real friends.  Maybe it’s because all of this is still so scary at times. Maybe I’m coming down from the high of celebrating my baby turning 1. Whatever it is, it’s been hard and I’ve been weepy. So weepy. 

Wyatt’s first birthday party 🎉

Yes, I said pumpkin up there. And you are right if you’re thinking we’ve probably already decorated for Halloween. Harlon asked me on Sunday if we could get out the Halloween stuff and who am I to say no? I mean, if Disneyland can decorate now, so can we. And at this point in my life, I do what I want. And you better believe I’ve been lighting that pumpkin scented candle every day since. 

This week didn’t have one easy drop off for either boy at school. Harlon repeatedly told me on the way that he does not want to go to school anymore. He wants to stay home and learn letters with me and brother every day. Both kids cried hysterically when I dropped them off in their classrooms and my heart broke. I fought back the tears, knowing that this is something that lots of parents deal with. I just haven’t figured out how to do that yet. 
Harlon has been saying a lot “Mommy you came back for us.” And every time I say “Of course, baby doll.” And he’s always telling me he “just wants to be wth me.” But what happens if the day comes and I’m not there to pick them up? I don’t come back?  I absolutely hate that these are things that I think about. And I really hate talking about them but I hope this helps me process the feelings and the fears.  In the meantime, I’m trying to counteract it all with positive visualizations throughout my days. 
Today I had an oncology follow up to see how the Xeloda is treating me- I just took my last dose of the first cycle this morning. I’ll have 1 week off and will begin again next Wednesday for two weeks. So far, I have only noticed some increased fatigue, dry finger tips and slight pain in my right foot. But with all that has been going on, I can’t directly pin point these problems to the Xeloda. On top of those things, my moods have been so very off which is most likely the result of my total hysterectomy and surgical menopause. 
We are going to raise my Zoloft dose in hopes to try and balance out my emotions and my higher than usual anxiety levels. I’ll also be starting Restoril in regards to my insomnia. My thyroid levels will be tested again tomorrow to see what’s up and if the Synthroid is helping or if it needs to be increased. 

I had to go to the doc the other day too, not my usual PCP, for a lump I found on my foot. Initially I thought it was a bug bite. When it didn’t go away after 10 days, I freaked. Lump. Any lump. Anywhere= PTSD. Thank goodness it’s just a ganglion cyst. Nasty, I know, but I’ll take a cyst over the other options. Anyways, since it was a new doctor, I met a new nurse. The universe knew that I needed to meet her in that exact moment.

Turns out, she is a 5 year triple negative BC survivor, also BRCA 1.  This is big for me, to meet another TNBC survivor and to see her thriving. We’ve exchanged numbers and I hope to meet up with her soon. My rad lady posse keeps growing 💜

I was able to get back to acupuncture yesterday and it was nice to focus on my healing again. My acupuncturist and I always have these therapeutic conversations and I walk away feeling like, ‘yes, I’ve got this.’ 👊🏻 I also hope to be cleared to get back to yoga very soon. 

As a reminder, I never post these things for pity or sad faces. I post the truth, my feelings- so that you all may be able to understand me and my life. And so that if someone out there is feeling the same or dealing with something similar, I want them to know they are not alone. 

Also- if anyone has an at home booty workout that is legit- help a sister out. No boobs means I want to get a rocking boo-tay! Not looking to be sold on something but a few moves to lift that sucker up would be greatly appreciated. I’m over this pre-pubescent tween boy look I’ve got going on. 

Just for funzies, here’s me in my Britney moment at Wyatt’s birthday party. Thank you Lizard Wizard for providing the snake of my worst nightmares 🙀

 

And this new tank from my cousin Mandi sums a lot of crap up. 🤗

Brother 


As I rocked Wyatt tonight and fed him his last bottle as my wee baby, I was overwhelmed with gratitude and love because tomorrow he turns one. And I am here to celebrate with him. 

I was reminded of when I read the Giving Tree to Harlon for the first time. I sobbed. I was also pregnant with Wyatt at that time and wondered how I could love another baby as much as I loved H. Well, long story short. I do. I love my boys more than anything on this earth. With all my heart. Insert any other cliche saying here. 

The last year, as difficult as it was at times, was something so necessary so that I could be here to welcome Wyatt into this next year of excitement. So that I can walk into his room tomorrow morning and see that giant grin on his chubby face. All of the pain, nausea, surgeries, doctors appointment, tears… all worth it. 

Behind the scenes info- I don’t usually sit down and write out a blog post in one fell swoop. Most of the time, I’ll jot down thoughts over the course of several days and construct something readable over time. And this post is no different. But looking back over my ‘notes’, this one has turned out very differently than it began. My last couple of weeks have been pretty negative. At least, I have been negative, all my notes were beyond negative, and I’m pretty sure it’s a result of the hormone changes from the hysterectomy. My mood swings have been atrocious and they are hard to hide. I’m not proud of it but also find it difficult to correct. Positive Jess took a break from life for a bit and bitchwad Jess stepped in. Full force. 

Sometimes bitchwad Jess is funny and extra witty. But sometimes, this time, she is just flat out shitty. I’ve been super irritable. Snapping at John, the kids, Pete dog, you name it. Usually at times like this, I take a time out and soak in a relaxing bath but I’m not allowed to do that for another 4 weeks and I’ve had a hard time finding a new coping skill. 

It’s the little things that are setting me off too. Stuff that I was totally cool with just a few weeks ago. For example, I’m frustrated with my hair. With my thin eyebrows. I’m suddenly struggling with a lack of body confidence when, just a week ago, I was rocking it. I had prepped myself for pain and hot flashes post surgery. Not for being an unpredictable nutbag.  

On top of all that crazy, I started Xeloda last week- that’s the oral chemo pill that I’m taking just as a precaution. So far the only noticeable side effect is extra fatigue. Or is that motherhood? 

Yesterday, I had an unplanned follow up with my onc gyno. I’ve had increased bleeding and he wanted to make sure that my stitches (up in my hoo-ha) were still in place. They are all good, I just need to make sure I am not lifting anything heavy for several more weeks. I seriously love that man. But I feel like that might be a creepy thing to get into about the doc who’s all up in your bits. 😳

Leaving that office, I randomly ran into Chuck- the Chicago loving radiation tech guy. We laughed to see each other out in the real world, he introduced me to his wife, I talked crap on Peter Cetera. It was a good time. 

Just a few hours later, I actually headed to the radiation department for a follow up there too. I love that office so much. I love the staff, the vibe, even the familiar smell. Even while loving that place, I was in a crap mood until the doc walked in and started a super awesome pep talk. I’m not sure if she could tell that’s what I needed so badly at the time or what. But she pumped me up. She said something along the lines of “Jump in there kid. Live life. You’ve had a crazy year and your body’s been through a lot; pregnancy, C-section, chemo, breast surgery, radiation, hysterectomy, more chemo. Your body is recalibrating but you have what we call a strong constitution. I wish you could see what I see all day and you’d realize how strong you are. Think of all your battles fought and battles won.” I told her I wish I could record her and replay it on bad days because it was exactly what I needed to hear. 

As far as the rad follow up, everything looks great. The change in skin color will lighten over time but after about a year, the color it is, will likely remain. I call it my badge of honor. When I left I told them, “I love your faces but I hope not to see them again.” They agreed. So that’s that. 

And then, holding baby Wyatt in my arms tonight, everything seemed to be put back into perspective. All of the complaints and crap above didn’t matter in that moment. Obviously I can’t change the hormone crap. But at least I can acknowledge the feelings and try to regroup. 

So, happy almost birthday to my forever baby. I love you more than you’ll ever be able to comprehend…. until you have a child of your own I would guess.  And here’s to many, many, MANY more birthdays that we will celebrate together. 

Xeloda Begins 

I don’t have much to report other than I had a super swell hysterectomy follow up today and I started my first cycle of Xeloda tonight. 

My gyno is really pleased with how I’m healing post surgery. I am too. I imagined it would be as painful as my C-section, not even close! I’ve had some slight cramping the last few days but nothing that required any meds. I still have lifting restrictions but I also still have kids, soooo….. 

I don’t feel anything yet with the Xeloda, except some light anxiety of the unknown. Like I’ve said before, this oral chemo pill will be something I take twice a day, for two weeks and then off for one week- that’s a complete cycle. This will continue for as long as I can tolerate the side effects- which can include GI issues, fatigue, and itchiness/skin peeling from the palms and soles of my feet. I will not lose my hair with this one. 👍🏻

Xeloda, mount up

The only other big doins’ going on over here in the Filloon Household- Wyatt is turning one soon! What the heck, right?!? Next Thursday, my (not so little) preemie baby boy will be a toddler. We’ll have two frickin’ toddlers. It’s been one hell of a year but I am so grateful that I have been able to be home with him and see him become the chunky and hilarious dude he is. Oh and he finally says mama! Dada’s not the only cool kid around here anymore! 

Baby. Doll. 💙

Hysterectomy Update 


I never eat breakfast but as soon as someone tells you can’t do something, isn’t that all you can think about? My last food intake was at about 8pm the night before surgery. I was hangry by 7:37am yesterday. Hangry=hungry +angry. On top of it, I couldn’t have any coffee so I was swell to be around. 

We got to the hospital at 1:30, got all checked in and settled- and watched a few episodes of Bizarre Foods. Limited hospital channels. I was so hungry at this point that my mouth was watering while watching the host suck snails from the shells. 

My nurse was the best, I wanted to be friends with her. She has two girls, same ages as H and W so of course I was planning weddings in my head 😜 She reminded me of Ali Wong and I loved it. All of the staff was great really, they kept me nice and calm and truly listened to me when I expressed my fears of uncontrollable vomiting after surgery. They gave me a patch to wear behind my ear and three different nausea meds to combat any possible queasiness that would follow and it worked perfectly. 

My other main concern was what we would be listening to in the operating room. Whatever it was, it needed to be fun and upbeat. So naturally, I requested Britney. The OR nurses were so excited with this request and that pumped me up even more. Did they actually play it? No clue. But I like to believe they were pulling my innards out of my vag while singing:

“You want a hot body? You want a Bugatti?You want a Maserati? You better work bitch

You want a Lamborghini? Sippin’ martinis?

Look hot in a bikini? You better work bitch…

Now get to work bitch!

Now get to work bitch!”

-Britney Spears 

My post op team was flat out delightful, sweet and mellow. My main nurse Marylan, never even batted an eye when I was sure I was about to pee myself and needed a bed pan immediately. I didn’t pee. Or when I asked for my 7th pack of graham crackers and 5th apple juice. I loved her. 

I woke up in the recovery room feeling super crampy- almost like the beginning signs of labor. I tried to avoid the narcotics but ibuprofen didn’t do a damn thing and I was given some Dilaudid. It was sleepy magic. I was also connected to a sensor to monitor my breathing and it kept beeping. Apparently I was not breathing deep enough but I was convinced that I was not breathing at all. Marylan kept reminding me that she could see my chest rising and falling and that I was clearly talking to her. So good news, I was and am still breathing.

I still feel pretty crampy, bloated, and sleepy but overall, I feel great. Much better than I had anticipated. I never puked and was able to be discharged last night. We got home around 10 or 11. Honestly, I have no clue what time it was. I expected to feel lighter, a bit empty but nope. I don’t feel much of anything and I like it. 

Thank you everyone, for your thoughts, prayers, calls, texts, and overall good vibes. So much love to Team Filloon ❤️
Side note- this was written partially on Dilaudid last night and Norco today. If it makes no sense, well, I’ll have to read it later and update accordingly 😜

Hysterectomy Time 

When I close my eyes, I’m instantly taken back to the amazing weekend we just celebrated in Half Moon Bay. And I’m beyond grateful that I was able to be a part of such a special series of events. 
Aaron and Jessica Beese- a phrase that was once used to refer to me and my brother, has taken on a new and beautiful meaning. It now represents my little brother and his new and gorgeous wife. The love they share for each other is magical. It was a spectacular weekend full of love, laughs, happy tears and magnificent promises. 
I gained a new sister this last weekend, more family and some new friends. And I gained memories that will last forever. I am so proud of those two. Weddings, they are the perfect reminder to love with all your heart- through the good and the bad, forever and always.

Coming off of that weekend, I jumped right back into the mom life and patient life. Yesterday was the boys’ first day of preschool and daycare. Driving them there, I felt like I was going to puke from nerves but as soon as we walked into Harlon’s class, he shouted “I love this!” I dropped them off and left feeling so proud and thankful that I get to witness these exciting days and massive milestones. 

Then I was off to Kaiser to pick up my post surgery meds and to get pre surgery blood work. It was a lot of blood….. I hate blood…… but based on my non-medical background, things (test results) look good. 

The hysterectomy and ovary removal will send me into immediate menopause. But I had a dream last night that my hot flashes were no worse than what I’m already dealing with. So maybe that’s a good sign. Fingers crossed because I am already a seriously sweaty mama. I’ve also been getting some awesome pep-talks and tips from my hyster-sister (she’s the wittier one in our relationship) and that has eased several fears. 
I’ve spent my last day before surgery lifting lots of heavy stuff because I’m going to miss that for the next couple of weeks. Just kidding, I lift shit because I’m a mom. And things need to get done. But for real, I spent the day prepping. Prepping my house (and my intestines – that ‘shit’ needs to be cleared so there more room for the doc to move and groove in there. 😜) , cleaning, shopping… all the fun stuff. 
The last few days, I’ve been extremely anxious and nervous about tomorrow’s surgery which is scheduled for 3:30pm. (That late start time means I can’t eat after 11pm tonight!!! Wahhhhh!) I’m on edge about going under again and what will be when I wake up. Will I be puking as much as I did after my mastectomy? I seriously hope not! But I’ve had a chance to sit with it all and I feel much more at peace. Because I know that I am taking this next step to be able to experience more moments like the ones I wrote about at the beginning of this post. 

Tomorrow, I most likely will not respond to any messages or texts (because I’ll be hangry as f*&@) but please know that I am so thankful for all of the love and support from everyone 💜

One Year… and Counting 

One year ago today, I received an early morning phone call and that single moment altered any path that I thought I was heading down. The voice on the other end was comforting yet truthful. I had cancer. I say the whole word this time for a couple of reasons. Because that’s what she said. And that’s what I heard.

But I HAD it. It never had me. Let’s all remember that before I go on.

When I hung up, I tried to explain what I’d just heard to my boss through tears and broken sentences. I left sobbing and shaking, heading home to meet John. All I could think about were my children. Harlon was just a baby. Baby Boy Filloon (we couldn’t decide on a name FOR EVER) was just a little dude growing inside of me. What was going to happen to him? Those boys needed me, what would they do if I wasn’t ok?

When John and I were finally face to face, we hugged and I continued to cry. I was so scared. But in that moment, I knew that I would never want to go through this with anyone else. He grounded and continues to ground me. He’s my protector even when I’m sure he feels helpless.

We tried to pass the time until my appointment later that day with funny movies but we couldn’t shake it. Any of it. So we went to the mall. Of course. We walked around (I waddled), ate cookies at Mrs. Fields, sat in the gigantic massage chairs at Brookstone, tried so hard to pass the next few hours. From there, we jumped face first into the story you all are so familiar with now.

A lot has happened in the last year, I’m not the same person I was then. A big one-  I’m now a mother of two.  Those boys are my reason for living and what I give my all for. Just the other day, Harlon told me that Wyatt is his best friend and my heart melted. Little did I know that I’d be able to give him that gift. (He also told me a dead worm in the driveway was his best friend but I’ll take it anyway.)

A huge thing I’ve learned since that call is that I can’t control what happens to me, I can only control how I react. Ain’t that the truth?

Over the last year, I’ve lost parts of myself- physically and emotionally. But I’ve gained so much more than I’ve lost.  Here’s just some of what I’ve learned through it all so far-

Light the candles, use the good soap, drink the good bottle…. meaning don’t hang onto shit and save it for a special occasion. Everyday is special. Hug lots when people are there because you never know if or when you’ll see them again. Tell people how you feel but don’t be a jerk about it. Know your body and trust your gut. Speak up for yourself. People will support you even if you don’t feel you deserve it. Love more and judge less.

I’m not done.

Laughter really can help heal. I can endure more than I ever thought possible because ‘you can knock, knock me over but I will get back up again.’ I am open to so much that this world has to offer. It’s ok to have a day or two of pity parties as long as you don’t get stuck there. We all need to practice more self care and self love. It’s ok to accept help and even ask for it. I absolutely can love a second child as much as the first. Yoga, it’s not just for a hot bod. Makeup can be fun and can also make you look less like an alien. My Posse is rad. You don’t know how strong you are until you have no other choice. I am proud of myself. People are ultimately good and mean well. (Except for a complete bitchwad here and there). I’ve realized what it really means when people say ‘it takes a village’ and my village is fierce.

Still going.

I’ve learned the true meaning of Team Filloon. What started as a family joke, quickly became a legit mantra. There are a buttload of ‘mountain lions’ out there. Always remember ‘that’s not me, that’s not my story.’ Internet friends can turn out to be true friends. And when in doubt, smile.

Like I said, this is just SOME of what I’ve learned. I’d be writing for days if I wanted to record it all. Ain’t nobody got time for that.

I celebrated today with a trip to the day spa, John had given me a gift certificate when I completed chemo but I never had a chance to use it. Today felt right. It was completely relaxing and much needed. I got to talking with the concierge about why I was there and what I was celebrating. Super sweet gal, I felt like we could be buds. Well, she surprised me with a sweet treat and sparkling apple cider. A small gesture to say congratulations and that my story really hit home for her. She began to cry a little and I gave her a huge hug. She didn’t have to do any of that for me but I hope she understood how special she made me feel. It’s the little things sometimes.

Just for funzies- A quick timeline snapshot: I had gone up to northern California to help my brother pull off an epic wedding proposal the week before my biopsy. I knew that something was not right at this time but didn’t tell anyone. When I got diagnosed shortly after, I honestly questioned if I would be around for his wedding. That scared the crap out of me. Because when you hear the C word, you really don’t know what’s ahead. But here I am, still blogging to whoever will listen. Fun stuff, right?!

Now, I must excuse myself to pack. I’m going to celebrate the crap out of my little brother’s wedding weekend.
Oh and mama’s still got this.

The Comback Tour 

Don’t call it a comeback, I’ve been here for years – LL Cool J

Just kidding, that’s exactly what I called it. We recently got back from Viva Jess Vegas/ The Comeback Tour and it was the greatest of all time. The G.O.A.T, some would say. It was a weekend of friends, fun, and of course- Britney Spears. (Because if Britney can make it through 2007…) I know, your currently asking yourself “didn’t she JUST go to Vegas?!” Yes. I did. Great memory. Vegas is my jam. 


This trip had been years in the making. It started as a joke when a bunch of us went to Vegas while I was pregnant with Harlon. I swore that once I had him, we’d plan to go again and call it ‘the comeback tour’. Then I got pregnant with Wyatt and the joke continued and we’d go after. Then, well, you know the rest. And here we are. 

The comeback tour carries a bit of a different meaning now. It’s heavier than just heading back to Vegas with friends to party. It was a celebration of life and making it each day. It’s also a reminder to make memories and live each day like it’s a gift. Like a comeback. 

Now, this part of the post is overdue. I was supposed to start Xeloda last Monday but after getting my thyroid stuff figured out, my oncologist and I have decided to start at the beginning of September. This will give my body some time to adjust to the thyroid medication, which has really been a life changer. I feel pretty good. At least better than before starting the Synthroid. My headaches are less intense, I feel like I have more energy, and I’m not so foggy brained. It’s super sucks that this is most likely a lifetime deal and brought on by C but I can/will hang. 

My hysterectomy pre-op is next Tuesday and surgery is all set for August 30th. I am a little nervous but not too bad- maybe because I knew this was coming since the beginning. I’m more ready to get this part over with and start the healing. Emotionally and physically. 

It blows my mind that a year ago at this time, I knew something was not right with my body. I hadn’t been diagnosed yet or even had my biopsy but I knew what ‘it’ was. I tried to chalk it up to a crazy pregnancy… but I’ll get into all those feels later. 

Because this literally got me through some shit.

Brain MRI Results 

Holy crap! After what feels like FOREVER, I finally got my brain MRI results back and they are CLEAR!!!! I type this as I celebrate with a ham and Swiss croissant and a Golden Milk Latte. I eat when I’m sad, scared, happy, stressed…. I also smile at these times so just imagine me smiling and doing a happy dance while I eat 😁

It’s pretty crazy how waiting for results related to health can be debilitating. It’s something I need to figure out how to deal with in order to stay sane. I need to find someway to get past the mental block that prevents me from enjoying my time with my family and my friends. I spent so much time staring at my phone because I didn’t want to miss the call or email that I missed out on a week of my life. 

This being said, even without waiting for results, I want to be carefree again- in all of life. I realize that’s probably a hard thing to attain these days but I miss being naive. I want to just be able to have a headache and think “oh man, I have a headache, where’s the Advil?” I don’t want to have to worry that it could be something worse. I don’t know that I’ll ever get those days back but I have to figure out something.

Let’s talk MRI’s real quick. I had never had one on any part of my body before. I’ve had plenty of other scans but didn’t know what to expect with this one. I also didn’t ask many questions, so that’s my bad. 

When I got to the hospital, a lady greeted me in the lobby and walked me back to where I usually get prepped for scans. But then she kept on walking…. right out the back door of the hospital. We got outside to where two trailers were and we hopped on a lift thing and went on up. It seemed odd but I went with it. Once in the trailer, I wasn’t given much direction other than take off all jewelry and empty my pockets. Then I was guided through the narrow room to the machine. I was told it would be loud and that I’d be wearing earplugs. I got to talking to the other man there because he looked familiar. I asked if he ever did CT scans on a pregnant lady. He looked confused and told me he’d probably remember that. I agreed. 

So I prepared to get on the table with my earplugs in and the lady tech starts talking to me about my diagnosis. It’s muffled because of the plugs but I can hear enough. She’s asking me if I’m “all good now”. That’s a loaded question. And then asks me if I’ll be having a hysterectomy. I tell her yes and she proceeds to say, get this, “Good! Because cancer always comes back in your lady bits. My friend fought to get her other boob removed and a hysterectomy and then she died at 38.” Ummmm whaaaa? 

Next thing you know, I’m being shoved into the tube. I lock eyes with the male tech and desperately wanted to shake my head in a way to convey ‘what the fuck?!’ But I wasn’t allowed to move… 

The next chunk of time (maybe 15 minutes) was filled with the loudest sounds I’ve ever heard even with the earplugs and headphones placed over the plugs. Clinging and clanking. Noises that sounded like I was in the middle of a battle with Pacman and Donkey Kong. Knocking, so clear I felt like someone was actually trying to get my attention. Car alarm sounds, grinding, shaking. It was a lot. 

Luckily, I’m not claustrophobic and felt some comfort in the tube- which felt similar to an airplane bathroom, both looks wise and air conditioning wise. Then I get pulled out, a contrast was injected (I didn’t realize that was going to happen until I got there) and slid back in. Another handful of minutes pass with the same noises and I’m pulled out- with a massive headache.  I literally asked the man if it’s that loud so that your brain gets angry and they can see stuff on the screen. He laughed. 

That was all last Thursday and I’ve been reliving it since. I kept closing my eyes and thinking about his facial expressions when he lowered me back to the real world on the lift. I asked if he could see anything and he told me legally he couldn’t say. So I cracked a joke about doing some illegal stuff and he chuckled. I figured if he saw something terrible, he wouldn’t have laughed at my poor humor. 

Me, looking way too far into his facial expressions, is what barely got me through the last week. But I made it and I’m ready to pick up again.