We are officially 3/4 of the way through the first phase of chemotherapy. The symptoms are definitely starting to snowball, which is exactly what every doctor, nurse, and chemotherapy veteran warned me would happen. I was hoping they were all liars. Unfortunately, they were not. The Red Devil It's honestly hard to wrap my head around the fact that just 11 weeks ago I was working full-time, getting ready to start clinicals for my senior year of a nursing program, and chasing

First and foremost, my fashion sense is getting even worse now that I am not able to go to work every single day. This is my new uniform, in all its glory! We are celebrating the halfway mark of my first phase of treatment. That means we are roughly 1/8th done with the entire process, which sounds small. But it's actually a big deal we have made it this far already! I am holding strong. I've learned that "AC chemotherapy" is actually just a fancy medical abbreviation for the

This update is a shorter one. Less fluff. More… “here’s what we’ve learned while trying not to get body slammed by chemotherapy.” Round 2 has definitely brought its own set of challenges. The symptoms are mostly managed and overall tolerable, which I am incredibly grateful for. But saying this is easy would be the understatement of my entire life. I am learning how to manage symptoms quickly. There were a few “mistakes” during Round 1 that I have no intention of repeating dur

It is a strange kind of grief to watch pieces of yourself disappear in real time. Humbling too. Intimidating. Because by nature, all of us are constantly trying to protect ourselves. We protect the people we love, the lives we’ve built, the tiny routines and comforts that make us feel like us. We cling tightly to the things that help form our identity because they feel familiar and safe. And obviously, on the deepest level, there are losses in life so devastating they crack a

***contains a couple potty words. I’m sorry Grammy*** I have learned there are different kinds of silence in this world. There’s the silence of waiting rooms with broken water fountains and outdated magazines. The silence between a doctor taking a deep breath and saying the words “your scan was not clear.” The silence while refreshing a patient portal every seven seconds like somehow your anxiety itself might upload the results faster. And then there’s the silence after heari

The preparation leading up to my first chemotherapy treatment was chaos. I am so thankful we were able to make it to Cole’s graduation from LCSU in Orofino prior to this treatment beginning. One of my best friends and I found time to go get small matching pink ribbon tattoos too. On May 4, 2026, I went in to have my port placed. My mom and Yvette sat together in the waiting room while they wheeled me back for the procedure. It was quick, but of course I still had enough time

Friday, April 24, I went in for my PET scan which is pretty routine, but really important. Going into it, we felt hopeful that it hadn’t spread anywhere else. I hadn’t had any symptoms that made us think otherwise; no major pain or anything beyond the normal exhaustion of working in healthcare and chasing a two-year-old all day. They injected me with contrast for the PET scan that was so strong I had to stay away from kids and pregnant women for 8+ hours because I was technic

Tuesday, April 14th finally arrived. There was no way my mom was going to let me go through something like this alone. We were both up at the crack of dawn, carrying a quiet kind of anxiety as we headed in for the biopsy. We knew we wouldn’t have answers right away, but it felt like a big, necessary step closer to getting them. The procedure was one my mom wasn’t allowed to be in the room for, which I understood. But she stayed in the waiting room the whole time just waiting

Eight months after my initial imaging, I walked into the Saint Alphonsus Breast Care Center for a diagnostic mammogram and ultrasound, this time ordered by my primary care provider. She didn’t hesitate for a second when I told her what had been happening and how frustrated I’d been. At the end of February, I started having sudden, sharp, stabbing pains in my left breast; so intense they would wake me from my sleep. When I called to schedule imaging they couldn’t get me in for

I went in for imaging after a really frustrating experience. After disagreeing with two doctors and going back and forth with my insurance trying to get a mammogram approved because of my young age, I was at a loss. In the end, I trusted my instincts and chose to pay for it out-of-pocket, knowing it was something I needed to do. What had once been a small cyst was no longer small, and it had become increasingly painful. I did have a cyst that needed to be taken care of at one