Peritoneal / Omental Mets

So yes – progression. Not at all surprising. Dr. B says it’s growing into my colon now. It’s taking over my lower GI tract, slowly but surely.

The new treatment is called Xeloda.

LOL forever that stomach pain is a side effect. I hope I don’t get the dreaded hand foot syndrome, but I’m sure I will. I meet with Dr. B on Monday afternoon to get more info and all that jazz.

The kids aren’t with us this weekend, but I told them yesterday. I was on facetime with Jackson and he was going to breakdown so he wanted to get off the phone. Grant texted me later that he’s keeping him busy – trying to have fun. I avoided telling Freya until after her choir recording session. We were texting so I’m not sure how hard she took it, but luckily she was with her bf. Her mom knows too – so hopefully she can get some extra affection this weekend.

My husband is a mess. I don’t know what to do for him; for any of them.

Eating is misery.

This is one step closer to the end. It feels like a big one. In my heart, I don’t feel like it will be much longer. It’s time to get serious about shit.

Nauseated af

At least I don’t have covid. Our tests were both negative.

My scans were moved up to this Thursday. Meet with Dr. B on Monday.

I don’t have scanxiety because I already know what to expect. So there’s that at least.

The real question is: what will be my next treatment? Xeloda or IV chemo?

I might be bald soon.

More bad news

I can’t eat much anymore (or drink much either) without feeling really full and sick. I’ve also been having a lot of reflux. I wake up super ill in the middle of the night. Lots of nausea, reflux, and cramps. So I think I’m going to ask that my scans be moved up. I’m worried the peritoneal mets are growing again. I’m not supposed to scan until June 23rd, but I don’t think I can stand to wait that long. Plus, I need to report this kind of stuff to my oncologist anyway.

I’m so tired. I don’t know how much longer I can handle all of this bullshit.

Sometimes Parenting Is So Fucking Tough

Several months ago, I bought tickets to Hamilton for me and Jackson. He’s been so excited and talking about it constantly. The show is tomorrow (Thursday) night.

Well, last night his new best friend invited Jackson, and their entire friend group, to have a sleepover at his house tomorrow night, because there is no school on Friday. Jackson was upset and torn about what to do, and ultimately chose the sleepover over the show.

I’m really bummed, like deeply sad about it, and disappointed in his choice. That said, I really do get it. Middle school is fucking hard. He lost his best friend because they are in different classes. He’s made new friends, but not without some struggles. He’s trying so hard to fit in, and he’s the newbie in the group, so he doesn’t want to be left out.

(FOMO is a bitch).

I get it. I’m still sad though. He will get another chance to see Hamilton for sure, but it most likely won’t be with me. I really wanted this to be a special memory for him. Instead, he’s going to a sleepover that he won’t even remember someday. I know he’ll regret this at some point, and I hate that too.

D is stepping in as my date. We’ve made reservations at Commonwealth for dinner. It’s in this fancy, artsy hotel, and the food and atmosphere are fab. It’s right across from the theater. Jackson and I were supposed to meet up for dinner with Freya and her mom, since they’re seeing the show too. Obvi that can’t happen now since neither D or K want to spend any time together. (Frey would hate that too. She hates it when her mom and dad interact. I can’t blame her really. It’s extremely painful/uncomfortable to witness).

Sorry if there are typos. I’m not in the mood to fix them right now.

I used to be a partner in a successful law firm.

During dinner conversation last night, I felt a bit weird because D and S were chatting about work stuff and I felt like I had nothing to contribute. I feel like I’m barely even a lawyer anymore. Everyone is moving up in their careers, and I’m over here feeling excited about being declared disabled. It’s a tough pill to swallow.

I’m going to lunch with my boss tomorrow to discuss moving forward in light of my disability. I have to be very careful about my hours and how much I make. There are rigid rules. I think he’s going to be disappointed though, because he wants me in the office more, and I’m just not up to it. He doesn’t seem to grasp how sick I actually am. I guess I fake it too well? I just hate people feeling sorry for me, so I try to present as fine even when I’m not. I even do it with the kids. D is the only one who sees the real me nowadays.

The newest side effect is my teeth and gums hurting. Xgeva is known for causing such issues. I’m just…fucked up about it. I can’t even get dental work until I’ve been off the meds for several months. But then I think of the guy I know with throat cancer who just had ten teeth removed to prepare for radiation. Ugh ugh ugh.

Fuck cancer in the ass with a huge dick and no lube.

I’m dying.

On days like today, it slaps me in the face hard. It’s like in order to survive I’ve kinda blocked it out to a certain extent.

But I can feel it. I can feel my body slowly breaking down. I bet I’ll be dead in less than 2 years.

I’m going to go take a bunch of drugs now. I want to be functional when my husband gets home. I want to hang out and cook and drink and fuck and not waste a single moment.