I Survived Breast Cancer for This?! part 1

When I started blogging again, it was with the intent of sorting through recent-ish health-related trauma in hopes of finding some sense of clarity and peace. Primarily, it was to be A Year of Breast Cancer (or, as it’s been affectionately dubbed, Boob Hell featuring Frankenboob) and the resulting side effects that the majority of the population know nothing about. It was to be both educational as well as cathartic.

I mean, when you hear someone has been diagnosed with BC, you automatically think, “They’ll probably lose their boob,” or “I wonder if those are her real breasts.” Since there’s sooo much more involved, I’ll limit this part to a brief – and I do mean BRIEF – listing and explanation of what I’m still dealing with over three years later; maybe someday I’ll revisit the list to delve into the gruesome details.

MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

~clears throat~

Sorry about that. ~blushes~

For starters, I have peripheral neuropathy. On the really good days the numbness is minimal and limited to the tip of my tongue, my pointer and middle fingers, and my thumb. On the really bad days, it’s extremely problematic and affects every finger, tip of my tongue, and the left side of my jaw; I think it was around the two-year post-treatment mark that I regained feeling in my toes. So, while I can’t always feel small things when trying to pick them up and occasionally will glare at my keyboard for shifting the keys out of alignment, I can again experience every excruciating moment when I accidentally kick a chair or step on a Lego. Good times!

Next is the reason for all four of my hospitalizations during treatment: critical dehydration and malnutrition. WoooHooo! You would think getting intravenous fluids 2-3 times a week while receiving chemotherapy would be enough to noticeably mitigate the effects of dehydration, but you’d be WRONG! Also, once you’re moderately dehydrated, it doesn’t take much for your body to leech whatever hydration you have stored in your teeth and bones to compensate for this loss before damage is done. Keeping this in mind, in September 2021 my teeth started breaking, resulting in having all but six pulled in September 2023. So far, I have been fighting for over three years to get my medical insurance to not only cover all dental visits and procedures related to the damaged chompers since the cause was medically related, but also to cover the dentures I now have to wear. They’re still refusing, but I haven’t given up; I’m nothing if not persistent.

Oh, and I can’t forget about the tachycardia. My Gomez is the only reason my heart should be racing, but the chemo must have been jealous and felt differently. Until recently, the doctors weren’t sure if my tachycardia was due to damage to my heart or thyroid, and they wanted to wait until after I hit was five-year post treatment to run tests. More on this later.

These three aren’t all encompassing, but they ARE the most persistent. For the longest time, they were my daily annoyances, and eventually I found them tolerable-ish. And then the universe decided to be a prankster with yours truly as its unsuspecting target.

May 15, 2024 was the conclusion of a family court situation that had lasted for almost two years. Shortly after, I guess my stress level had finally lowered enough to let my body attempt to get some rest, and I ended up sick. We’re talking the I voluntarily went to Urgent Care level of sick. It sucked. The doctor said I had pneumonia, even before receiving the results of my x-rays, which showed the lower lobe of my left lung had rounded atelectasis, which is just a fancy-schmancy way of saying it partially collapsed, or folded in on itself. The following week, the beginning of June, was another set of x-rays showing no change in my lungs. And the beginning of July? Wash, rinse, and repeat. It wasn’t until the end of July that I had a CT scan which showed ~drum roll please~ abso-feckin’-lutely no change at all!

But wait… There’s more!

At the end of August I had a pulmonary function test which only confirmed I didn’t have either asthma or COPD, but the day after testing? I woke up sick, and over the next few days, only became worse before eagerly dragging my plague-infected ass back to Urgent Care just to discover I freaking had COVID-19… For the very first time! I wonder if it’s possible the machine for the testing wasn’t cleaned thoroughly before I used it? I mean, it’s been how long since we all dealt with the endless joys of lockdown? I sincerely doubt even the medical community’s at the same level of cleanliness as they were once COVID hit.

In all honesty, I think I did pretty well despite having already spent three months dealing with rounded atelectasis, which had made my back rather sensitive to prolonged pressure of any kind. At least until I could no longer lie on my left side without experiencing dizziness and almost passing out, and breathing became painful enough to send me to the ER the end of September. It was there I was diagnosed with COVID-related bronchitis, which is exactly as it sounds: bronchitis caused by COVID-19. Just another joy that falls under the heading of Long COVID.

The next month was spent coping with steadily increasing difficulty in breathing, to such an extent that I started to fear sleeping because I constantly worried about whether I’d wake up. Of course this eventually led to ANOTHER trip to the ER on October 30, 2024. It didn’t take a genius to figure out I would most likely be admitted this time, even before I was taken back to triage for vitals and an ECG, with the only questions being how long (5 hours, 26 minutes) and how many tests will be ran (15, 12 of which were serum) before the doctors came to the same conclusion.

I think this is a good place to take a break in our story, kiddos! While you go grab an “adult” beverage to help process this insanity, I’m going to attempt to OD on peanut butter cups.