Working in Puerto Rico. Sticker on my computer is by artist Documented Journey

Disclaimer: This is a very long post. Sorry. But not quite. Thanks for reading it all. 

You never really think about truly having that thing called wisdom from life's experiences until you've gone through crap. You don't have to be ninety-years-old. The only requirement is just REAL experiences. In other words, honest-to-goodness shit you wouldn't wish on anyone else.

And we've had it. Our most recent years included Stage 3 breast cancer. That alone is enough, right? But life already had our adorable seven-month-old baby and suddenly we had to manage the cancer terror with our little guy at our side, then moving back to Florida after a few years in Virginia, then a double mastectomy, harsh chemo where I lost so much of my hair, I just decided to shave it off because it actually hurts when it's loosening and then falling out.

Twenty-five daily sessions of radiation followed, two reconstructions, and then after that, being separated from my husband for almost a year as he trained for his new job that finally brought us to this island paradise of Puerto Rico. Can I be dramatic for a second, though? I still remember walking into our new house in Florida after I had been diagnosed, with my little baby in my arms, and I couldn't even acknowledge how pretty the house was. All I thought was, "Is this the house I'm going to die in?" Dramatic? Maybe. Real and true feeling? Yes.

The cancer journey was the most terrifying, as you can imagine. And just a life's lesson for everyone: it is NOT a free boob job. It most certainly is RECONSTRUCTION (at least for me). As a result of all of that shit, the mind-numbing effects of depression, fear, and anxiety were added to the road, and sometimes it feels like it's just been one thing after another. (I'm happy and thankful to God to report that cancer remains in my rear-view mirror, but read on if you'd like to send good thoughts, vibes, and prayers my father's way.)

Like many other bloggers who start their site focusing on one thing and are consistent and active, life  suddenly steers us in other places. We love our blog, have made friends here, and yet we can't seem to post or engage as regularly as we used to, so we feel reluctant to let it disappear into that ether of the interwebz, to be forgotten about. We think, "should I write about other stuff, or will it annoy my readers, or should I post a review of a book even if it's been months in-between?" The struggle to figure that out amidst our new hobbies and changing experiences shifted so many times for me. I probably made that thought process more complicated, but it's how I felt. And I still don't know what to post here. Reading is always my favorite hobby, but I don't read as often, or have the sudden urge to write a review like I used to.

Instead, Instagram has been my happy place. While I don't fit into the world of Bookstagram (I don't have the right socks for it - book bloggers will get that joke), I do try. I post short reviews, thoughts on life, hobbies (journaling, podcasts, Netflix, and more), and this mini/micro-blogging format has suited me. And I've met more people there as well! People who, in my opinion, are great and grand artists who create such beautiful artwork and handcrafted items, and the world hasn't fully recognized them yet. But I know them! It makes me feel blessed. I forget about this little blog when I'm enraptured with Instagram.

But I still like coming back home here, to my little corner of the blogging universe I started 11 years ago. This really is home. And I thank you all for reading with me, and living life with me.

So enough of all that. Let's do some updates, shall we?

Putting together a KiwiCrate subscription science project and eating cheese and grapes and apples on our balcony.

Family Life - My son is now five and a half years old! What? Wait! Almost SIX? He is a future rock star/guitar player, so you should probably purchase your tickets now...

Guitar tucked into his backpack while at the airport in Puerto Rico.

We moved to Puerto Rico for my husband's job and I'm now a stay-at-home mom after 16 years in corporate America. We felt it was a deserved time for me, what with that whole "f-cancer chapter" part. And I love it here. I am also now helping my in-laws' private yacht chartering business in Boston Harbor with Night Rider Charters (two luxury yachts, so gorgeous). The role fits me well for now. After all, my family and my husband's family has always been connected to the water in some way (Coast Guard, Navy, large supply boats supporting the East Coast or in the Gulf, and now my husband's current job in Puerto Rico where he is again, on the water). So while the boating season is incredibly busy during the season, and I miss my mom life time, ultimately it supports the whole family.

And I LOVE living in Puerto Rico. I love the people I've met and I crave the community and the feeling of being one with it. It's funny, I never liked meeting new people as I got older, but now, I try to meet new people all the time (in broken Spanish, of course). I love buying locally from artists and the farmers' market. We love it so much that my husband and I were just talking about how we can't picture ourselves moving in a couple of years, and that we likely will opt for longer.

Let's be real, though - it was a difficult adjustment at first. We live on a mountain and the mosquitoes are never kind to me. At one point, I whined on my Instagram-stories that I had at least 75 mosquito bites. We had a 6-foot boa constrictor on our balcony that we captured ourselves and then released back into a remote area of the jungle. Flying ants are a thing and they are disgusting. I was likely bitten by a brown recluse spider and ended up in the emergency room. Our beloved and (dog-like) cat appropriately named Puppy the Cat passed away at eleven-years-old after a prolonged kidney disease he had beaten five years ago resurfaced and he passed away in my arms on a terrible Friday morning, and it was SO FREAKING HARD. My husband and I cried so much at the loss. Our other cat and our dog suffered that depression right along with us. We miss that damn cat so damn much.

I get challenged every single day here but then that life experience thing just happens. I realized I'm actually a hell of a lot tougher than I ever thought I was. How many years have I wasted not doing something physical because I didn't think I could do it?

And you would think, you would imagine more than anything else, that Stage 3 cancer would have taught me that lesson, but it was honestly a whirlwind I never like to think about. The "right now" of this life, right here and now, as I sweat to clean the house because there is no a/c in the living room, while I climb a wall to feed the stray kittens or climb another part of the yard I mention later in this post, is much more of a lesson for me, and I sweat and I try and I do it again, and I try and I get mad about things at times, but I'm feeling HAPPINESS as I'm experiencing it. So cancer just taught me that life can suck really bad. You don't feel happiness going through cancer. You pretty much feel shit all the time, and you plaster that happiness face on to the world because can they really deal with your true feelings when you can't? That you had 29 out of 53 lymph nodes infected with it, so you're always afraid of recurrence? Or that you barely look at yourself because yes, you are grateful for living, but damn, that reconstruction is just downright horrible? Or that there are other people out there who are dealing with their own diagnosis and you can only sit on the sidelines for them, and you feel like you have to earn every single minute of your own life because they might not be able to?

So I put the damn smile on and pretend like I'm fine. It's not happy and it's not fun. Since I can barely handle dealing with the anxiety and the fear, why should anyone else have to hear about it? Instead, I work hard at this mountain house, making homemade things and learning how to compost and journaling and writing and making some art. This is how I've learned life's lessons and felt that happiness at the same time. Only here.

I grew up overseas (born in the Philippines and raised there, than in Greece, Venezuela, and more) and while Puerto Rico is an American territory, it's still unique enough that I know my son will have memories of this part of our lives, and I want to keep that going. I vividly remember all of my early traveling and I'm grateful I was born to parents who recognized the value in that. (My only regret? I didn't travel alone when I was young and single and could just pack a backpack and go! So do it, if you can! Now, with family, it's still wildly fun but there's just a whole lot more planning and list-checking.)

I want my son to have that knowledge and comfort of travel from us, I think about how often he's been on a plane in his five and a half years, and I am so proud of him. We are a nomadic and traveling family lately, and we will soon head back to Florida for at least a month, where my son will be at a summer camp and I'll work in the daytime and be right across the street from my father to help him anytime he needs me. But I like how we have become this adventuring family, and that we can head to different places around the world, that we can hop on a flight to the mainland to see family and friends and my son is used to it. I want him to grow up knowing there is more than just his house, his street, his neighborhood, his town. There is so much more in this world to try, to decide what you do and don't like. I want him to learn that lesson even earlier than I did. I want him to know what it's like without power sometimes, and how to get a generator going, that central air conditioning is a LUXURY.

Reading Life - I read all. the. time. It just takes me forever lately to finish a book. I still need to review Amor Towles' Rules of Civility, everything since last summer by Meg Wolitzer (short updates for both - all were incredible, and more). Right now, I'm reading Please Look After Mom by South Korean author Shin Kyung-sook and it is AMAZING. I usually hate it when books are written in the second-person (wait, I wrote part of this blog post in the second-person, sorry), but my goodness. This book is unbelievable. I love everything about it. You have to read it. And then call your family or friends and take care of them and notice them. NOTICE THEM. (I am reading it on my Libby app on my phone.)

Sojourner folio made by Sojourner USA, artwork pictured in the pocket by Little Raven Ink

Creative Life - I adore journaling and art and writing and will never stop. I have always journaled but became ferociously when I was diagnosed, fearing I would not be alive and that my son would only have my journals, because Lord knows I didn't want to just let him have Instagram and Facebook feeds to scroll through. Now, I journal and plan all the time, and I love my analog life. I love to collage, I love to paint, I love to draw. I am horrible at all of them, but I adore the process. Bullet Journaling has become my favorite way to combine work and home life, when I used to have one notebook to plan work life in and one notebook to plan personal activities - now I've combined them this year and adore it.

And I write. I have a story I'm writing. It's pretty fun. I read the intro to my husband, and he asked me, "Well, wait. So then what happens?" And that was the most thrilling part of it all!

Yes, it's Young Living. No, I will not pressure you into signing up. It will be okay.

Hippie Life - My favorite new quote: "Be an open skeptic."

At the age I'm at now, I realize that I'm truly a hippie at heart. I am conservative in so many things, but I love my new life in Puerto Rico, and I love taking mangos from my own backyard and making mango jam. I love how I had to scale the wall to our house to get to the backyard when the power was out, getting muddy and dirty and filthy to lug the diesel gas tank up to fill up our generator and hack cobwebs away; I love it all. I love my short nails and my silver rings and the essential oils I use.

I mean, let's really talk about this. I made MANGO JAM. USing mangos from MY OWN BACKYARD. I did it. It was easy. And now I can use it on toast, in a chicken and cheese tortilla burrito, or in a marinade for fish. I made that mango jam, and my husband and I were talking about this - people here in Puerto Rico regularly stop on the street and pick the mangos up that have fallen on the road. Why not? They don't take the ones that have gotten older, they take the ones that are perfect and ready for eating. We don't do that in the States because why? We have become so brainwashed that buying it at a store is the "safest" way. I've used the mangos in my backyard, and have picked up other fruit on the roadside as well and eaten them and they are incredible. And guess what - no chemicals! No preservatives on them!

So back to the first thing. (Although again, look at how perfectly I made that jam, it was just the right amount to fill up this old coconut oil glass jar! It was SO SATISFYING when that happened.)

Yes, I signed up with Young Living; wait, please don't freak out, I will not pop up in your inbox asking you to sign up. I had a membership 2 years ago and then let it go inactive. No one pressured me to stay enrolled. And that's how I am. I moved to Puerto Rico and started learning about essential oils and how to make my own products that were plant-based, not chemically-based, and so I reactivated my account. I got my starter kit and then started learning more and now I order every month. But I didn't have to do anything. I buy shampoos and soaps and home cleaning products that have zero chemicals in it. The money I used to spend on Tide or Dawn or some fancy shampoo and skincare is now transferred to what I purchase with plant-based products through Young Living. I'm okay with that. I got rid of all of the synthetic candles and plug-ins that I inhaled and now I smell fresh and clean rooms filled with a diffuser with pure, therapeutic-grade oils. I love my natural soaps, natural everything. (I still shave, though, in case you're wondering. I'm learning how to be natural with many things, but I'll always shave.)

You can click on my link here to enroll or you can just message me on Instagram if you have questions. I use the concentrated Thieves laundry soap in my washing machine and use wool dryer balls with a few drops of oil on it. Remember, you can buy oils in a health food store, but don't just trust the label that reads 100% pure. Really check it out and look at it. If you find Young Living or doTerra on Etsy or eBay or Amazon for very inexpensive prices - it's been diluted and someone is reselling them. Just be careful and do your research on everything. And biggest piece of advice? Turn your favorite products over to see what's listed in the ingredients - if you see "fragrance," toss it out. Fragrance is the heading major corporations use to tuck in all the icky things that are "synthetic" and they write it off as trade secrets. But "trace elements" of the same synthetic item used in your make-up (formaldehyde, for example) can change your body and NOT in a good way. So try to embrace the natural stuff, the earthy stuff. You can still be conservative and still embrace the gifts on this earth and not put chemicals on your body. If you have questions, ask me. I will not pressure you.

My Netflix Recommendations 

Watch Stink, The C-Word, The Bleeding Edge, and Heal. It will make you rethink how things are "regulated." How we trust things so blindly just because someone in "authority" said it was okay. Remember: "Be an open skeptic."

Faith Life - My father was diagnosed with Stage IVB esophageal cancer, and that has consumed my thoughts and my heart. I am actively praying and I do not care what the doctors say. I will be a witness to the miracle that my Dad will have no evidence of cancer soon. I can see it. I believe it. I had the honor to deliver my father's speech at his veterans' reunion last month, and I'm proud to be his daughter. I embedded the video for you here, in case you have 20 more minutes to spare on my life. My father is a veteran of the Korean War, and was an underage veteran. And he created VUMS, the Veterans of Underage Military Service, so many years ago to get these underage veterans to connect and share stories. My Dad is an American hero, who once only had an 8th grade education, entered into the service, and then got out and went to college, and eventually got himself to Vanderbilt University. He never whined. He's a hero. (Care to sign my petition to the TSA about the treatment he experienced at the Reno Airport? Click here for that.) And side note, he hates all the hippie things and I thought he wouldn't go for the Young Living stuff, but now he absolutely loves his diffusers and refuses to be in either his living room or his bedroom without peppermint in his diffuser going full blast. (He will try other oils, but peppermint is his favorite, along with Panaway and Copaiba mixed with a carrier oil to massage onto his skin, into any pain he might have.)

Pray for this guy right here, my Dad

I hope I haven't lost you all, but perhaps you've moved onto other things. If so, but still want to connect, the best place to find me is on Instagram - so click here or find me on other sites through Linktree by clicking here.

Thanks for reading all of this. Tell me what you're up to lately. Would love to reconnect with you all again.

folios and traveler's notebooks by Sojourner USA

There is always a reason for why things happen.

Life is a completely different experience right now. With an incredible opportunity that my husband had, we made the decision to move for the next four years to Puerto Rico, a Caribbean island that is a United States territory and found a beautiful 100-year-old home on the southwest part of the island on a mountain. In the past two months of our new life, we've had several moments of pure glee at our new experience, and then moments where we dearly miss the comforts of the States.

Here's a quick overview of life: I was born in Manila, and lived in Venezuela and Greece. I grew up in Maryland, married once, divorced once, moved from Maryland, to Virginia, to North Carolina, to Minnesota, and then to Virginia Beach where I met the love of my life, married again, got pregnant through IVF treatments, and promptly had a gorgeous fat little boy who saved my life because he never wanted breast milk. Because if he had taken to my breast, it would have been an even longer time before I got that somewhat large lump rechecked. That means the evil breast cancer that had started in my right breast would have spread much more and much further than to 39 out of 53 lymph nodes in my right armpit. My story would have been very different. The Stage 3 breast cancer which required a double mastectomy, chemo and radiation, could have been even worse. So I will always say that my son saved my life. Because he absolutely did.

I've anointed our house as the "Hemingway Hideaway" since it reminds me of Hemingway's Key West home. The gothic beauty of vegetation and island life and palm trees and fruits dropping into our backyard is beautiful and extravagant at times, but there is another reality of living on a mountain without air conditioning on the main floor, without a dishwasher or garbage disposal, with a kitchen door that swings open easily to a gorgeous outdoor patio but also means those bugs and mosquitos and spiders I'm so scared of can also easily come right into where I live, too.

So, yes, that's challenging and different, but so hard to complain about because really - how can you complain when the view is beyond imaginable and God's artistry is so apparent? How can I complain when we have a pool that I can jump into anytime I want? Life here reminds me of all the many things I have always taken for granted living in the States. So this is my reminder. What my soul and spirit needed to become even stronger and thoughtful and aware. These are the things for which I wanted to come here, to raise my son here, for him to build his memory bank with moments of difference and language and beauty. I wanted to harshly remember that life is a luxury no matter where you live, that each breath is precious and that each place in the world can be different, unusual, quirky, delicious, frightening, fun, and always to be respected, even in the midst of homesickness and culture variances that make you doubt every decision made. The reminders that there is more outside of where you live and that one step outside the door each morning should bring you that awareness in some way.

Life in Puerto Rico in this mountain home is fun and crazy and frustrating. I don't know of anyone who really enjoys walking up the stairs and looking out onto the same balcony with the same incredible view that is only just a few feet from your bedroom and noticing that just past that open door, there is a five-foot boa constrictor very comfortably curled up on the corner of the balcony in the sun. That's not really a moment anyone seeks to accomplish, not a task on anyone's list to check off in a day, to try and figure out how to make a snake that big and that scary looking, go far, far away from your home and pets. But even in that, there was value, precious value in that crazy moment. For that moment is now a memory my son has tucked away into his memory bank, that he can draw on in the future to share with his friends and his family about his childhood. Even now, I laugh loudly about how my husband, son and I banded together like The Walking Dead, and with two hockey sticks and a trash can, we snagged and released that big boy back into the jungle in 22 minutes. Later, when the dust of the moment settled, it was an interesting feeling. We just encountered a boa constrictor. On our balcony. Our home. And we worked together. And laughed and high-fived that we accomplished this together and didn't run in fear. This is life now. It seemed familiar, it was our new world now and didn't seem like a big deal anymore.

Life is so sweet and precious. I know I took things for granted before and I will try harder in this life. So I'll take every single snake, mosquito and separation from the things I'm used to because God let me live one more day. Somehow I escaped a ride of cancer and chemo and much, much scarier things from the past four years, which are in my rear view mirror, and I can look at the snake on my balcony and not be all the way scared. I still experience doubt, anxiety, depression and fear in my vulnerable moments, and especially when I have my annual check-ups, but it feels further away from the quaking, dark hole of fear and despair, and closer to God. Closer to faith. It's happening, as I type these very words, that peaceful transformation of contentment flowing over me and I don't want that to end. I know I'll have my moments, the imperfections that make me human. But I believe I can do this. I believe I can choose faith over fear. I will try to practice yoga every morning on that same balcony. I hope for more good days than bad. I pray for those thriving with cancer each day and I will mediate and talk to God. I will be faithful to Him, my life, to my very dreams of creativity that I once tucked away, and I will devote everything to my incredibly strong husband and my life-saving son. I will give them my very all. Because everything was almost all taken away from me much too soon.

While safely tucked away on Instagram, which has become my comfy spot for life in general over the past few years, I have watched the book blogging world become quite a different space than when I lived in it. Sometimes it seems fun and supportive and happy, while other times it appears divisive, fragmented, different, an influx of new bloggers that I don't know, but I really miss this space. I'll pop up a quick micro review on Instagram once in a very great while, and that's about it, but I miss this corner. I want to see if I can return, to poke my head out onto the blacktop and see if there's anyone else who wants to play hopscotch again?

http://www.instagram.com/coffeebookchick

I want to defy all differences of negativity for the very sake of nostalgia and missing my fellow book bloggers. And while I realize life also happened for me over the past few years, I still feel downtrodden when I click on a friend's blog site and I see they may not have posted in as many years or as many times throughout our respective absences. It's weird, this once so crucial part of my existence, something that I would feel more likely to lead off with in conversation when introducing myself (Hi, I'm Natalie, I am a book blogger.) I say nothing about my real day job because I never felt that defined me. It pays my bills but is not quite at all a dream.

Book blogging, on the other hand, very much so was something I felt that defined me to an extent. It was something I was proud of, a hobby that seemed more than that, something that I loved talking about. And now that all that cancer junk is behind me, I want the book blogging fellowship feeling back again.

I don't know what this new landscape of reading and reviewing looks like, but I want to peek a little into the universe of it all again to see if I feel like my feet feel secure.

I want to talk about my life after Stage 3 breast cancer, how I went through chemo and radiation and had no hair for six months, and how while I know it's firmly in my rear view mirror, I'm still always terrified. I want to talk about my son who was only 7 months old when I was diagnosed and how I have so many pictures where he had more hair than me, and the times when he only recognized me for my bald head and never knew who "she" was when I showed him pictures from BEFORE.

I want to share that I firmly believe my son saved my life. I want to open up the conversation on fear and anxiety, about my stronger faith in God and how much more studious I am with the Bible and how I came to follow that road that I am so glad I took, even though I know many who knew me years ago would be stunned today. And I also want to talk about my ever-developing addiction over the past year to traveler's notebooks and Bullet Journals, and journaling in general! Planning and putting my events on iPhone only?? Pfftt. That's so 2011. People are starting to remember that the old school pad of paper with a nice pen (fountain pen, anyone?) works even better and makes it easier to remember something, so now there are systems out there to help refine and tweak. Let's talk about that, yes! And don't forget those traveler's notebooks... want to fall down a rabbit hole? Go onto Instagram or search on YouTube for "traveler's notebook setups" or "planner setups." Welcome to your paycheck flying out the window, book reviewers...

There's so much LIFE out there. So much to see and do. I want to find that new routine, not just in the world of Instagram, but back in this corner, with all of you, celebrating life. I hope many of you still remain. I hope I can be consistent. Part of me wants to talk about everything here, and part of me thinks staying on Instagram is the best place for me. I'm not sure yet. But I wanted to throw my hat in the ring to declare that it wasn't quite over for the Coffee and a Book Chick and her little ole book blog. Not just yet.

Well, it's been quite the summer.

If you follow my Instagram account, you know what's going on. I haven't felt inclined to post here until recently, and I'm only doing so now because I feel it is important. Not just for me to vent, but for me to hopefully help one chick out there take every single lump seriously. As a matter of fact, it doesn't matter if you are a man or a woman. The most important things to remember are to take lumps seriously and if you're more lethargic than usual than PLEASE go see a doctor. Who cares if people think you're a hypochondriac? Or overreacting? Wouldn't you rather be safe than sorry? Yes. Yes, you would.

So, here's my summer journey so far:

1. November 2013
• I felt a lump. I was in my final month of pregnancy, and I had an ultrasound scheduled on my due date. I was told that while the lump was large, it didn't look suspicious, and that I shouldn't worry. "Breasts do crazy things during pregnancy. Come back six months after you're done breastfeeding," the doctor in Virginia said.
2. November 22, 2013
• My absolutely beautiful son was born, and I tried to breastfeed. I stressed myself out, and I tried and he tried, but he just didn't want to. I felt like a failure.
3. December 2013 through May 2014
• I felt the lump grow, and I felt some minor shooting pains, but I didn't think anything more of it, other than that it was those "crazy" things breasts do during pregnancy. The doctor said to come back six months after I was done breastfeeding, so I planned to go back in June since breastfeeding didn't work out for me.
4. June 2014
• My husband's company gave us an opportunity to move back to Jacksonville, Florida from Virginia. The only catch was that we had to move back immediately. I work from home for my company, so it was a cinch to say "yes" and jump on the opportunity. My husband moved down right away and I stayed in Virginia with our beautiful son until my husband found us a house and we could move.
5. June 2014
• I knew I needed to get my annual exam out of the way before I moved. If I waited, I knew I would take forever to find another doctor in Florida. I might as well get it done now, I thought. I scheduled my appointment and my doctor immediately scheduled a mammogram after she felt the lump.
• The mammogram resulted in identifying something "suspicious." They scheduled a biopsy.
• The biopsy showed a result that STOPPED ME IN MY TRACKS.
• My doctor told me I had "the real deal" breast cancer. 
• I kept thinking, "How can this happen? My son is only seven-months-old. I don't want him to never know me. I don't want him to call someone else 'Mommy.' That's me. I'm Mommy." I immediately had jumped to the worst-case scenario. I was a wreck. I cried constantly. I WAS TERRIFIED.
• I packed up the house.
• I moved with my son down to Florida. My husband had come back to do the move and drive with us.
6. July 1, 2014
• Two days after I moved to Florida, with boxes littered everywhere in our new house, I had my first appointment at the Mayo Clinic in Jacksonville, Florida. They confirmed it was breast cancer, but couldn't yet tell me what stage it was at, or if it had spread. They just needed to get it out. NOW.
• I had a complete breakdown in my surgeon's office. What if it's really bad? What if it has spread? What will I do? I can't handle this. My son is only seven-months-old. I want to be with my husband. When will I get the test results? I can't leave my son and my husband. I still have work to do in my life.
7. July 15, 2014
• I had a double mastectomy performed. Even though the right breast was the problem, I opted to remove the left as well, in order to be aggressive. The doctor also found that 29 out of 53 lymph nodes had cancer in it. She removed all of my lymph nodes in my right armpit during the surgery.
• I didn't look at myself for five days after the surgery.
• I cried. I waited for test results. I grew paranoid about what those results were. I was terrified.
• Finally. Some GOOD NEWS.
• A PET scan resulted in the good news that the cancer, while it was categorized as Stage 3, had NOT SPREAD to any other part of my body other than my lymph nodes. I cried. I cried because of a combination of lingering fear, fear of my upcoming chemo treatments, and complete hysterical glee that I was going to see my son grow and that I could be with my husband for our next adventures, our next good and FUN adventures, in life.
• But, then I realized I still have to get chemo out of the way. While one extremely terrifying part might be done, I still have more left on this ride to get done before I can breathe easy.
• My oncologist set me up to still receive chemo treatments and radiation even though the cancer was completely removed when they performed the surgeries for both the double mastectomy and the lymph node removal. The chemo and radiation are strictly to act as an extra layer of insurance to make sure that if there are any random cancer cells floating in my body, this treatment will zap it.
8. August 8, 2014
• I have a procedure to put a "Power Port" into my chest, that has a tube which feeds directly into my jugular. This is how I will be "fed" the chemo, and also acts as an easy access point to take my blood work, instead of always having to find a vein in my arm. It sticks out of my chest pretty dramatically. It's not pretty, and I felt claustrophobic the first day after I got it because I could feel the tube going across my throat, but I'm used to it now.
9. August 12, 2014
• My first chemo treatment. They gave me a big dosage of Benadryl to relax me, and then for four hours, I laid in a bed while I got my chemo. I watched two episodes of "Lost" on Netflix, even though I struggled to keep my eyes open. (By the way, thank you to Netflix and the TV shows "Lost" and "Pretty Little Liars." You've done an excellent job distracting me from all of the crap that I've been going through.)
10. August 13, 2014
• I got the Neulasta shot. When you get chemo, your white blood cells drop dramatically down, and you are more open to infection. The Neulasta shot is a major jump start to grow your white blood cells, and I have to get this the day after every single time I get chemo. The only problem is that no one told me how much pain I would feel in my bones afterwards. White blood cells grow in your bone marrow, and the Neulasta shot really kicks the growth into overdrive so that you can regrow the cells to fight infection. But, man. I had the most excruciating pain for three days. It felt like I had been dragged outside into an alley and a horse dutifully obliged by kicking me in my teeth, and then kicked me everywhere else while I was down. I could feel every tooth shifting, almost like they were playing musical chairs and finding a new spot to sit in. PAINFUL.
• The nurses recommended I take a Claritin (yes, the over-the-counter allergy pills) the two days before, the day of, and the day after I get the Neulasta shot, and it should help to minimize the bone pain. I definitely will try that for my next treatment.

My next round of chemo is next week. I'm scheduled to receive six treatments, one every three weeks, for eighteen weeks. I hear that the side effects will increase each week, because chemo builds up in your body cumulatively. I've also heard that it takes a full year for the chemo drugs to wash completely out of your body.

Phrases That I Will Never Forget

• "It's the 'real deal' breast cancer." Spoken by my Virginia doctor who first diagnosed me. I felt like it was a nickname, like in boxing, and I had just stepped into the boxing ring for a fight I NEVER wanted to be in.
• "You're young and you're healthy." I didn't realize being 40 and having breast cancer meant being "young and healthy." But, okay.
• "You should prepare for a very tough year. Because of the fact that you are young and healthy, the Mayo Clinic is going to throw everything at you to get rid of the cancer."
• "You're going to be okay." Although this was questionable as I waited for test results, I would still repeat this over and over to myself.

Quick Reflections

• What has been the worst part to deal with?
• WAITING. Waiting for test results, waiting to go in for the biggest surgery of my life, waiting to get chemo, waiting for the side effects to kick in. WAITING. I'll bring up the test results again. Waiting for those brought up the most intense fear and paranoia I've ever experienced in my life.
• What stage was the cancer in?
• Stage 3. Stage 4 would have meant it spread to other organs. In my case, it only spread to my lymph nodes, but it DID NOT SPREAD to any major organs.
• Is my hair starting to fall out?
• Yep. I cut my hair short so that I wouldn't have to deal with the emotions of my super-long hair falling out. It's expected that all of my hair will fall out by next week.
• Can I taste my food?
• Right now, it comes and goes.
• Did I have any nausea after my first chemo treatment?
• No, but I took them seriously when they said to take the anti-nausea pill at the first questionable feeling.
• Do you still feel like a "breastfeeding failure?"
• HELL, NO. If breastfeeding had been successful, I still would not have gone to the doctor yet. Remember, I was supposed to go back six months after I was done breastfeeding. What if I had been breastfeeding for six to eight months? I wouldn't have seen any doctor until next year. And that might have been just too late.
• Did you get the genetic testing done?
• Yes. I want to see if I have any mutations in my genes which would show I was predisposed to get breast cancer. I opted to have the most extensive genetic testing done so that I can find anything I could potentially develop (of course, the testing can only show so much), now that I've had breast cancer. Why? Simply because once I know what I might get, I can now MONITOR myself with regular testing and screenings so I can always try to catch things EARLY.
• Did I go to a support group?
• I thought about it, but I chose not to at this time. My family and friends have been INCREDIBLE. My husband is the most AMAZING man on the planet. I love him so much and he's working double overtime in this house to take care of the house, me, our son, our dog and cat, and everything else. He is a HERO.
• My sister came down with her husband, sixteen-year-old son and twelve-year-old daughter twice to help around the new house, take care of my son, and just make noise. (I learned I hate hearing people whisper around me. It makes me feel like they think I'm going to die. When my friends and family are in the house, there's regular happy noise and it makes me feel so much better.)
• Everyone's journey is different. I would highly recommend looking at taking advantage of support group resources and making whatever decision feels right for you. The bottom line is: You cannot do this fight alone.
• Am I religious?
• I am Catholic, but have never been a practicing one. Coincidentally, I was already curious about faith and religion BEFORE all of this started, and when I was diagnosed, I easily grew much closer to my faith, and I'm happier for it.
• Am I reading?
• I am still voraciously reading and listening to audiobooks, but my urge to craft a review is fairly minimal right now. I'd rather spend my time with my son and husband when I'm feeling well.
• What's next?
• 2015. I can't wait for you. I am going to be cancer-free, no more chemo treatments, have breast reconstruction (should I throw in a tummy tuck? Heck, yeah!), and plan an extra-long vacation for just my sweet little family to enjoy. An island paradise at an exclusive resort? Sounds good. A retreat to Paris, followed up by a bar crawl in Ireland? Oh, yeah. Something like that.
• What do I need from you?
• KICK ASS vibes, prayers, and thoughts. No sympathy, no pink, none of that. I just want WARRIOR thoughts sent my way. I'm not quite finished with this chapter of my life.

The two reasons that make my life worth living, and loving.

My husband's friend sent me this shirt after my surgery. This rocks.