I know I haven't written in awhile. The fertility treatments hit me a lot harder than I expected and my brain has been on overload. So here's the recap in all it's glory. Like everything cancer related there's good news and there's bad news:

(BAD NEWS) I feel like a swallowed a spiked volleyball. I can't close any of my "real" pants. If real pregnant women cramped up this much I'm pretty sure we never would have survived as a species. In fact I'm trying to come up with a new, more accurate word for cramp since it doesn't seem to capture the nuances of this feelings. Something like ouchiehorriblepainouch

(GOOD NEWS) I have developed a fun new habit of rubbing  my bloated volleyball belly and murmuring words of encouragement to my totsicles. This is just as creepy as it sounds. (you can do it little guys! Keep on juicing up! I love you already!) **However the doctor tells my I am still overperforming "fertility wise" - so clearly I should keep doing what I'm doing.**

(GOOD NEWS) My skin has never, never looked better. Thank you Susannah for the spay day! )

(SOMEWHERE IN THE MIDDLE) I spent an hour yesterday doing my make up and playing with fun Benefit products (thank you Al) in anticipation of handsome boyfriend coming home because I felt totally disgusting. When I finished I promptly fell asleep and woke up a smudged disaster. Sigh.

(GOOD NEWS) I'm completely obsessed with my fertility nurse and wondering if it's appropriate to ask her to be a godmother to one of the totsicles.

(BAD NEWS) I had a panic attack Saturday night, hyperventilated until I fainted on the bathroom floor (I had just gotten out of the shower) It was terrifying but also, not wholly unexpected. I have bad, scary days just like everyone else and I recovered quickly. But what I really want to know is, where can I get one of those pill teeth spies have? You know where they bite down and get a dose of arsenic or whatever? No, I am not suicidal, I just think this would be an excellent xanax delivery system. The hardest part was I was alone and I wasn't functioning enough to find the pills. And of course, after getting the panicked phone call my mother may never let me spend another second alone for the rest of my life...

(GOOD NEWS) Besides this rogue panic attack I had a freaking fabulous weekend. Seriously, JUST what the doctor ordered. I had some amazing puppy walks, spent some restorative quality time with two of my favorite people of all time and feasted on treats, brunch and a farmers market bounty that would make Alice weep (baked figs with goat cheese! Fresh heirloom tomatoes with basil leaves and mozzarella! Dill smoked salmon with slivers of sweet red onion, capers and cream cheese! Purple chicken with thyme, basil and garlic!)

(NEWS) I have a date for my first chemo treatment (September 24) and I can sort of/kind of start planning for my life again **with the caveat that my ability to do anything, except maybe napping, is subject to change at a moments notice. On the 24th I will learn my specific cocktail (I know, some of you are dying to know - I'll let you know as soon as I do) and the current plan is a treatment every 3 weeks pending any delays, which can be pretty common (go white blood cell count go!) 

This week of treatments has given me just a small taste of what the months to come will be like. My body doesn't feel like my own anymore. I'm at the will of some very powerful drugs and they are impacting everything from my brain to my emotions to well, my body, in a much more profound way that I could have imagined.

In a way I am grateful because I see now just how hard it is going to be to keep up like I was doing before. I can start to ease into a life that is more gentle, less go-go-go, more focused on healing and emotional health than my five year plan.

I am also so grateful, even more so than I was before (Is that even possible?) for the support that has allowed me to stop working because being sick really is a full time job. I may not have the energy or the physical ability to do everything I did before, but I will again someday and until then I am sending so much love into the universe (thinking of you Rhonda!) because while my body might be a little less strong I feel like I have love to spare.


Gold Metallic Moto Jacket - perfect for my 8am labs! 
Beignets num num num