The Sonia Show

Writer. Mocker. Beer drinker. Old movie watcher. Mother. Goober.

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The pros and cons of chemo

Yeah, so, lately I’ve been having to say no to things that I want to say yes to, and I hate that shit.

Since 7 to 10 days out from chemo is when my white blood cells are their lowest, and I’m not aching to spend more time in the hospital, I’m having to decline invitations to events that I would love to attend.

For example, this weekend I had to say no to a friend’s wedding. Sadly, a wedding is the type of event in which sick people will attend no matter what. I couldn’t go and risk exposure to even something as silly as a cold. It was a super bummer. Mighty, mighty good man David went without me on Saturday, and I was probably the most depressed I had been in a while. I love weddings. I was planning to spend the evening feeling really sorry for myself, but luckily, I have awesome friends. Good buddy Kate came over. We ordered Chinese food and made fun of watched “Step Up,” which is a pretty fine way to spend a Saturday evening if you ask me. Big thanks to Kate for hanging out. She’s good people.

Today, someone offered me tickets to the San Francisco Giants Opening Day game. Pre-chemo Sonia would have replied, “Oh hell yeah!” But Chemo Sonia had to be responsible and decline. I’m still in the hot zone, and that ballpark would be filled with “Outbreak” monkeys. I will be watching the game from the safety of my couch. Obviously.

The traditional SF Giants Opening Day Selfie.

The traditional SF Giants Opening Day Selfie.

This reminds me: There are still a few days left to vote for me for the San Francisco Giants’ Honorary Bat Girl contest. Please, please, please vote for me! It’s easy. Just click here, pick the San Francisco Giants, and there’s a photo of me and Calvin on page 4. Then you vote for me. I really want to stand on that field in my orange wig. Thank you for your votes!

So anyway, since I’m generally a “always look on the bright side of life” person. I’ve been working on a list of chemotherapy positives.

  • Saying no to events I really want to attend sucks, BUT, now I can get out of attending pretty much any event I don’t feel like going to. Chemo is a great excuse to skip any event from baptisms to your friend’s poetry reading.
  • It only takes me a few minutes to get ready to go anywhere now. Brush my teeth, put on lipstick, slip on wig: I’m ready.
  • When I had hair, I used a flat iron every day. My hair was not that naturally straight and shiny. Sorry if I fooled you. Anyway, every day I did the same little dance when left the house. I would get halfway down the stairs and think, “Did I leave the straighter on?” Then I would go back upstairs, go into the house, upset the dog and check the straighter – only to discover every time that I had, in fact, turned it off. Well, thanks to having no hair to straighten, I’m no longer doing this paranoid dance every day. The flat iron is gathering dust in a drawer.
  • I don’t have to shave my armpits or legs anymore. I’m like one of those creepy hairless cats now.
  • I haven’t lost my eyelashes or eyebrows yet. *knocks on wood* *immediately loses eyelashes and eyebrows*
  • My skin is really soft. I don’t know what’s up with that.
  • Of course, the biggest positive is the chemotherapy is killing any cancer cells that thought they could run and hide in my body.



Ugh, needles

Yeah, so, having to give yourself an injection is kinda weird.

Just in case you don’t remember, after this round of chemo I was ordered to give myself Neupogen shots for five days, which will help me create more white blood cells. Last time around, my white blood cells were as low as the box office receipts for “Mordecai” (hey-oh!), and I spent a few days in the hospital. While in the hospital, I had my first-ever panic attack. That sucked. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to keep that from happening again … including sticking myself with a needle.

In order to make it happen every day, I had to give myself a scheduled time: 10 a.m. At 10 a.m. I have to stick myself with a needle, whether I like it or not. At 9:30 a.m. I took a Claritin, because apparently Claritin (yes, the allergy medicine) can help prevent the bone aches that comes with giving yourself a shot to create more white blood cells. Drugs are amazing, right?


No one wants to stick themselves with needles. Tip of the hat to all you intravenous drug users. I don’t know how you do it. As mighty, mighty good man David pointed out to me, “It’s a testament to how great the heroin high must be, because people willing stick themselves with needles to get it. And they ruin their veins and find other places to stick needles like between their toes.”


I will never be a intravenous drug user, because I really hated sticking myself with a needle. I wouldn’t dare ask David to do it for me. Apparently, I’m totally fine with David changing my mastectomy bandages, seeing me go bald, emptying my drains and watching me push out a kid, but grabbing some of my belly fat and stabbing it with a needle is where I draw the line. After everything we’ve been through, I don’t want him to touch my belly fat. I’m so vain. I probably think this blog post is about me.

Anyway, I made it through the five days of injections. Hopefully I can keep my white blood cell counts up and avoid a hospital stay this time around. That would be awesome.


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Watch what happens

Yeah, so, now that dealing with chemotherapy is my full-time job, I’m trying to find good ways to spend my time. I mean, other than eating and sleeping, which are fabulous ways to spend my time.

I’m trying to watch more movies and updating the Netflix queue. If I don’t, I’ll pretty much end of watching “Law & Order” marathons on WE. David thinks watching “Law & Order” marathons is one step above putting it on the Bass Fishing Channel and watching it all day. but I think think he is way off base. Watching “Law & Order” is a perfectly acceptable thing to do while recovering from chemotherapy … or a hang over … or just for fun, because “Law & Order” is awesome. Chung chung.

I finally finished my “Prime Suspect” box set. If you love cop shows and/or Helen Mirren (and I love both), then “Prime Suspect” is for you. Not technically a movie, but each episode is movie length, so let’s pretend it counts.

I also watched “They Came Together” at the recommendation of F This Movie. It’s a spoof of romantic comedies starring Amy Poehler and Paul Rudd. It is written by Michael Showalter and David Wain, and they also wrote “Wet Hot American Summer,” which I have never seen but everyone can’t shut the fuck up about and it’s 14 years. “They Came Together” was funny. I’ve watched a lot of romantic comedies in my day, and this one hits all the right targets. Of course, romantic comedies are an easy target, but I laughed a lot. If you like romantic comedies, you will really enjoy it. Also, Amy Poehler and Paul Rudd are adorable.

Next up in the queue is “In The Heat of the Night,” starring Sidney Poitier, which strangely I have never seen. I have always wanted to see it, hence why it’s been bumped up in the queue. Another older movie I haven’t seen that I’m thinking about bumping up in the queue: “Funny Girl.” Thoughts?

In the evenings, we are watching pretty much whatever Calvin wants to watch, which means we are watching a lot of “Curious George” and (ugh) “Clifford.” Oh man, “Clifford” is sooo boring. It is not as cute as “Curious George.” Also, Clifford is voiced by John Ritter, so every time he speaks I think, “it’s sad that John Ritter died.” Constant reminders of death are not something I look for in a children’s TV show. Calvin doesn’t know who John Ritter is, and he thinks Clifford is rad.

I probably should use this recovery time as an opportunity to catch up on some newer releases, but the lure of these older movies are too strong. I could also use this time to read, but I don’t really have the attention span for it. I keep referring to myself as “Short Attention Span Theater,” which if you don’t remember was a clip show hosted by Jon Stewart when Comedy Central first started. You’re welcome. When I try to read my mind keeps wandering off or I fall asleep. Maybe this is the dreaded “chemo brain” that people warned me about, which is very similar to “pregnancy brain.” Or, maybe I’m just a product of too much TV, and now I’m one of those people that thinks reading is for suckers.

Also, there’s baseball. Baseball, you guys!


Chemo went much better this time, you guys

Yeah, so, chemo #2 went much better this time. Well, I mean as well as can be expected when doctors are injecting a bunch of poison into your body.

Unlike last time, there was no vomiting. Yay for no vomiting! The Pharmacist came up to visit me in my chemo chair, and we mapped out a medication-taking schedule that really worked. I felt a little nauseous at times, and I slept a lot, but no vomiting.

Scheduling out the drugs really helped David to help me really stay on top of the meds. One of the meds I have to take this time is a Neupogen shot, which is supposed to boost white bloods cells. I have to do this because last time I got a super-low white blood cell count and had to spend a couple of days in the hospital. It sucks. The only I’ve ever given myself is a tequlia shot, and it didn’t involved needles. It’s a little scary to poke yourself with a needle, but I did the first shot yesterday, and it wasn’t so bad.

Oh, and, this time around, I’m off work. In fact, I’m off work until chemo is over in mid-August. Luckily, my work has a really good short-term disability plan for things like this. It’s a huge relief to be able to rest and recover, and not stress about work.

Also, during chemo weekends, Calvin is going to stay with my mom. It saves Calvin from having to hang around Sick Mommy. Sick Mommy is a drag. This weekend, he had way more fun at my mom’s house and visiting his cousins than he would have hanging around the house with Sick Mommy. Of course, David is here, but he’s distracted. Chemo wife and busy 3 year-old is a lot to have on your plate at one time

Calvin had such a good time with his cousins that he was willing to have his photo taken with the creepy Easter Bunny at the mall for the first time


Calvin only looks slightly concerned in this photo.


Also, one more thing, voting is still open until April 16 for the Honorary Bat Girl Contest for the San Francisco Giants, and I still really want this, so please, please, PLEASE vote for me. Look! I’m wearing my orange wig and everything, you guys.


Let’s go, Giants!

You can learn all the details riiight here.


Can you wig it?

Yeah, so, today was the first day I wore one of my wigs in public.

I’ve been worrying that my wigs look like wigs, and that I will walk outside and everyone will think, “Who is she fooling? That’s wig.” And then they will stare at me or possibly try to snatch my wig off my head and run away with it, because apparently I think people are going to bully me like I’m in a middle school again.

I had a few doctor appointments at Kaiser, so slapped on my Jolie wig and headed out the door. I don’t wanna brag, BUT my old hair (my real hair) always gets a lot of compliments at Kaiser. All the nurses and receptionists love my hair. They comment on it every time. They love the red, and they love the cut. The last couple of times their compliments were bittersweet, because I knew that my hair was going to go bye-bye.

I walked in to Kaiser in my wig, and as I was getting on the elevator a Kaiser employee said, “I love your hair. The color looks really great on you.” Instead of pretending it was my real hair, and saying thank you like a normal person, I immediately blurted out, “It’s a wig!”

Ugh. Such a dork.

Of course, I didn’t stop there. Apparently, I need to share my life story: “This is my first time going out in my wig, so your compliment means a lot.”

“I had no idea at all,” she said, politely. “That’s a great wig. It looks amazing on you.”

I got off the elevator feeling so confident. I walked into the oncology department and the receptionist said, “You look so beautiful today.”

“It’s my wig!”

I never learn.

“It’s beautiful. You look like a model,” she lied. She works in the oncology department. I’m sure she sees thousands of wigs, and tells every single patient that they look like a model in their chosen wig. Still, it’s a nice compliment. I’ll take it.

I’m sure that the more I wear the wigs, the more confident I will get about wearing them in public. Unless I’m wearing this one, because I don’t think I’m fooling anyone with this wig.



Hair today, gone tomorrow

Yeah, so, if my hair had a theme song, it would be “I’m Coming Out.”

I’m shedding a lot of hair. A LOT. I thought I was emotionally prepared for it. I knew this day would come. I bought a few wigs and tried to mentally prepare myself. I knew it would be difficult. But I had no idea how emotionally draining it would be to shed my hair. I don’t wear my hair super long, but I have a lot of it – and it’s coming out in clumps. Any time I touch my hair, some hair falls out. I leave a trail of hair behind me wherever I go. It’s in the shower drain, on my pillow, on the couch, on my clothes. Everywhere.

I’m not going to lie. It’s depressing. I shed a few tears about it.

I’ve invested a lot in my hair throughout the years: financially and emotionally. I’ve spent money to get it cut and colored the exact red I love, but more than that my red hair is a part of my personality. I felt like losing my red hair was like losing a part of myself.

It’s silly feeling. It’s only hair, right? You’d think that after dealing with nausea and neutropenic fever due to chemotherapy that losing hair wouldn’t be that big of a deal. And, well, logically, I can yes, it’s not that big of a deal. Emotionally, that’s another matter. It’s tough. With my hair, no one knows I’m doing chemo. Without my hair, everyone will know.

Hair matters. But my hair is not the source of my personality. It turns out my personality was in here all along. *points to heart*

So, I shaved it off.

I was going to get a cute, little pixie cut and transition into my wigs, but I was just so over losing my hair. My scalp hurt, and I didn’t want to do it anymore. So, my sister met me at the salon, and my stylist shaved my head. And you know what? I didn’t cry. In fact, it felt good. My scalp doesn’t ache anymore. It felt like the right thing to do.

Getting ready to go out just got a whole lot easier. Lipstick, wig: Ready!

It’s super weird to not have hair anymore. I just have this peach fuzz. It’s light brown and gray. I look like an aging leopard. I’m not ready to post the post-shaving photos. Maybe I will be ready at some point, but I just can’t do it yet. I know I share everything with you guys, but you’ll just have to be a little patient with me on this.


In the meantime, how about some photos of me in my wigs? That will be fun, right?



This wig is my current fave. It’s a little longer than I usually wear my hair – a longer a-line bob. I really love it. It’s more of a copper red than red red, which is nice change. Also, it’s got a really dark brown layer underneath. I’m quite smitten with this wig. The wig came with a name. Apparently, all wigs come with names, which is totally not weird, you guys. So, this wig is Hailey by Noriko. I love it so much I bought a second one in more of a burgundy red.

And because I’ve turned into a wig-buying fool. I also bought this one: Jolie in Chestnut. It’s pretty cute, too – a shorter bob with side-swept bangs.



Hailey is like “Let’s grab drinks, get some fancy dinner and then make out in the car before going upstairs to relieve the babysitter,” while Jolie is more “I started the laundry and now I’m going the grocery store.” I imagine Jolie is the wig I would wear when going to doctor appointments or taking The Kid to the playground.

Speaking of The Kid, I thought he might kinda freak out seeing me in wigs, but he doesn’t care at all. Yesterday, he kinda gave it a second look and then was like, “Whatever, lady. Can you put on ‘Curious George’ for me?” I’m still mommy no matter what my hair (or lack thereof) looks like.


You give me fever

Yeah, so, I get to have all kinds of firsts thanks to cancer.

For example, on Wednesday night, I got to make my first-ever trip to the ER with a fever of 102. My mother came out to watch the little guy for us, and mighty, mighty good man David drove me to the ER. The doctors saw me immediately. Chemo patients are always fast-tracked, because they don’t want us hanging around sick people. Membership has its privileges, I guess.

Sadly, that’s about when the fast-tracking ended for us. We were in the ER from 9 p.m. to 4 a.m., when they finally moved me into a hospital bed. I had no idea I would be staying overnight, so imagine my dismay when overnight turned into two days. I was admitted early Thursday morning, and released Saturday morning.

I was diagnosed with a neutropenic fever. It is not uncommon for chemotherapy patients. My white blood cell were very low, and I had a fever. There was something going on inside my body, but I didn’t have the power to fight it.

Basically, I laid around in a bed for two days while they hooked up antibotics to my port. The doctor told me that some neutropenic patients are in the hospital for as long as three weeks. Damn! He said being young worked in my favor, and I thanked him for thinking 44 is young.

Everyone had to wear masks in my room. Of course, I mean surgical masks, not Halloween masks. Although that would be interesting. And now a nurse in a Ronald Reagan mask is going to give you a shot. “OH MY GOD! I’ve had nightmares like this. It’s happening!”

The first day in the hospital I was so tired from not sleeping in the ER, but you know they never let you sleep. I tried watching a little TV (and I mean little – I needed binoculars to see the scree), but Kaiser doesn’t spend money on a fancy cable package, so if you don’t like shows with a judge yelling at people then you are pretty much out of luck. I mainly listened to the F This Movie podcast, watched videos of Calvin on my phone and waited for my fever to break.

There's the TV waaaay up in the left corner.

There’s the TV waaaay up in the left corner.

The next day I woke up with no fever, and feeling much more like myself. Good buddies Jess and Beegs came by for a visit, and Jess tried to teach me how to knit. I was so excited. I was doing OK. But then she left, and I pretty much screwed it up right after that, and I don’t know how to fix it. It bums me out, because I was just getting into it. I’m going to have to watch some videos and see if I can get it back on track.

Giants colors - duh.

Giants colors – duh.

The other first I got to experience was my first-ever panic attack. It was terrifying, and I really hope to never, ever have one again. I’ve never been so scared.

I just had finished eating dinner, and I got a little raised rash on both my arms. I immediately started freaking out, and repeatedly checking all over my body to see if it spread. It was on my legs, too. My heart started pounding, and I was pacing around the room. I called the nurse, and I made David promise that he wouldn’t go home until I was OK. I felt out of control. My hands and feet were tingling. “WHY ARE MY HANDS AND FEET TINGLING?” I had a completely overwhelming fear that I was going to die in the hospital, all alone in my room. It took all my self control no to blurt out, “I’M DYING!”

The nurse came in – a nice young man named Lawrence. The rash was not itchy. My throat was not closing up. He called for a doctor and offered me an Ativan, which is an anxiety med plus anti-nausea med. Thankfully, I was smart enough to take it. The doctor came and assured me that I wasn’t crazy. There is a slight rash. It’s not bad. I can still breathe. They would monitor me and nothing bad was going to happen to me.

After that, I just sat in the bed, breathing, and waiting for the Ativan to kick in and take all this anxiety away. After about 20-30 minutes, I was fine. The rash was almost gone, and so was the anxiety. David held my hand through the whole thing. I’m sure he didn’t know what else to do. Anyone who knows me knows I’m not an anxious person. In fact, I’m really mellow. I’ve usually put on a pretty brave face for all the crazy things I’m going through, whether it’s a mastectomy or chemotherapy. I think this is the first time I felt a true, overwhelming fear that I might die, and it’s certainly the first time I ever let anyone else see me like that. David is so lucky, right?

And, of course, I’m ridiculous, because I’m not going to die. I don’t even have cancer anymore. I’m doing chemotherapy as a precautionary measure. I have it a million times easier than the millions of other folks who are doing chemotherapy but they absolutely have to if they want to live. But panic attacks are not logical. I’m so sorry for the people who panic attacks on a regular basis. They are frightening.

I’m so afraid of some random thing ending my life and taking me away from my boys. I don’t want to be one of the patients that in those awful patient stories you hear like hospital patients who died after eating tainted ice cream.

“Unfortunately, the meatloaf they served in the hospital was tainted, and Sonia, with her low white blood cell count, couldn’t handle it. This is the worst thing to happen to meatloaf since Meatloaf sang with Mitt Romney.”

So anyway, I’m home now. They sent me home with antibotics, and (luckily) I’ve already got some Ativan here, just in case. My oncologist is going to check my white blood cell levels on Thursday, and then we are going to go from there. It’s possible this could delay my next round of chemo. It’s possible he could level the chemo dosage, which would be fine by me.

In other news, I’m shedding like crazy. It’s like Chewbecca lives in this house. Hair is everywhere. I think I’m as mentally prepared as I can be for losing my hair. I’ve bought a few really nice wigs. I think they are super cute. I have no doubt that I will still cry when the time comes to shave it off. It’s going to be hard no matter what. I’m not quite sure what to do next. Do I just wait until it sheds so much that it’s noticeable and then I shave it off? Do I cut my hair even shorter beforehand to prep?

Oh, one more thing, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU to everyone who is voting for me to be the San Francisco Giants honorary bat girl. I am truly grateful and so overwhelmed by the amount of support. You guys are so goddamn awesome! It really cheered me up when I was in the hospital to see all the shares and everyone offering the support. If you haven’t voted me, please do. I want this. Don’t you want to see me on the field in my orange wig? You know you do. Vote for me!


Vote for me for Honorary Bat Girl for the San Francisco Giants

Yeah, so, I really want to be an honorary bat girl at the San Francisco Giants’ Mother Day game, and you can help me make it happen. is holding a contest, in which people share their stories about “going to bat against breast cancer.” The winner gets two tickets to the Mother’s Day game, and they get a special shout out on the field. I’m not going to lie, I want this.

I’ve gone to bat against breast cancer twice. The San Francisco Giants have unknowingly really helped me throughout my fights. They give me something else to think about, something else to talk about. They are the very best distraction. I am going to be doing chemo throughout the regular season this year, and I’m glad that I will have baseball to watch while I’m recovering. On top of the whole breast cancer thing, it’s a Mother’s Day game, and we’ve had a big year on the parenthood front as well with Calvin’s autism diagnosis coming just two weeks before my breast cancer diagnosis. As a team, the MansTracys have really had to step up to the plate. I think winning something like this would mean a lot to me, and my family and friends who have helped me along the way.

So anyway, voting goes like this:

You click this link:

You select the Giants as the team, and then you will see this. “Sonia” – that’s me and Calvin in the photo.

voteAnd then you click VOTE. It’s pretty easy, and you can vote as many times as you want. If you so desire, you can read my little essay by clicking on the photo of me and Calvin. It will open up and look like this:


I’ll post the essay here for you, too.

Breast cancer is a real jerk with bad timing.

I had just met the man who would become my husband when I was first diagnosed with stage 1 breast cancer in 2009. He proposed just a few days before my left breast mastectomy. Five years later, even though I was taking Tamoxifen, a cancer-fighting drug, I was diagnosed with stage 3 invasive breast cancer in my right breast. This was just two weeks after our 3-year-old son, Calvin, was diagnosed with autism. I had a mastectomy of my right breast in January.

I started chemotherapy in early March, the same week my son started work with behavioral and speech therapists. My chemotherapy will run through almost all of this year’s baseball season, ending in August. This means I will be rooting for the San Francisco Giants from my chemo level seat, instead of club level seat. And I think it goes without saying that I bought an orange wig for game days.

Going through chemotherapy is a bit like having a bad baseball season; you learn who your true fans are. And I have amazing fans. My friends and family are constantly waving their rally towels for me. I blog about all my experiences at my blog, so people I don’t really know from all over the country are cheering me on. Whenever I step up to the plate for my next round of chemo, I think of my fans. We have a lot going on in our household, but – just like the San Francisco Giants – we take it all on as a team. Together. And just like the San Francisco Giants, I never stop believing that I can do this; that we can do this.

As a breast cancer survivor and a mother, I would be honored to serve as an honorary bat girl during the Mother’s Day game for the San Francisco Giants.

Thank you in advance for voting. I really, truly appreciate it. Also, go Giants!


Don’t let the giraffes see you cry

Yeah, so, I’m feeling relatively normal again, which means we are back to doing our normal things such as going to the zoo.

We spend a lot of time at the zoo. And every time we go, Calvin has the animals he wants to see, and I have the animals I want to see (and soft-serve ice cream I want to eat). There are so many exotic animals at the zoo, but Calvin just wants to go the petting zoo and chase the ducks. I, on the other hand, want to see the penguins, because penguins are hilarious. And then I want to see the giraffes. They are so tall, skinny and beautiful. They are the supermodels of the animal kingdom.

I guess the giraffes were feeling brave that day, because they were really close to us. Or maybe they thought I had food for them.


They’re looking right at me! They can see into my soul!


I think the one on the right was trying to photobomb.

I’ve never seen a giraffe so close before. I could have reached over the railing and almost pet them. They are really amazing. I was looking at these lovely creatures, and thinking that a week earlier, I was so sick from chemotherapy. I was worried that I was going to spend the next five months of my life puking. But now I feel fine. And then I got all teary, because I’m a ridiculous person.

David: “What’s wrong?”
Me: “I’m just feeling really grateful. And now I’m embarrassed.”
David: “Why are you embarrassed?”
Me: “Because I cried in front of the giraffes. I don’t want them to see me crying.”

OK, enough about me crying for no reason. Let’s talk about some other stuff …

So, I finally broke up with “The Walking Dead.” I have not watched any of the new season and you know what?


I haven’t missed it at all. The show is a super bummer, and super bummers don’t play well with me right now. Plus, I have no idea where the show is going, and it turns out I don’t really care. Every season is the same: [Season starts] The gang meets new people and the new people get killed or the new people are horrible. Also, zombies … sometimes. [Season ends] I have no idea if I will pick it back up, but right now I’m feeling pretty confident I made the right call.

Since I have a new spot open in my TV viewing schedule, I filled with with “The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt” on Netflix, and it’s the funniest show I’ve seen long time. Do yourself a favor and watch it. So, so funny.

In Spawn related news, his speech therapy is coming along nicely. Communication has definitely improved in our house.


This week is the official start of Calvin’s dedicated specialists working with him in the preschool for about four hours every day. It’s a really exciting time. We just know that all of these services are really going to help him, and he is just going to bloom. He has so much to say, but he doesn’t know how to say it, and it’s finally going to happen. He is such a sweet, smart, funny kid. I’m so proud of him, and I’m so excited for him.


Don’t mess with the Zofran

Yeah, so, I’m feeling better.

Chemo is totally easy, you guys. You just need to take a ton of drugs until you find out what works to manage the side effects and then you lose your hair. Ta-dah! I kid. Chemo is awful. I’m only a week into it. I suspect the second round will be even worse, and I’ll up all my anti-nausea dosages. In the meantime, thank you, Zofran. This anti-nausea med controls the nausea but doesn’t make me super tired and loopy, so I can function like a regular human. I’m relatively normal. I’m stoked.


My Photoshop skill are not what they used to be.

I was feeling brave yesterday, so I let David take me to lunch … to the Olive Garden. Don’t you judge me. I wanted fettuccine alfredo, soup and breadsticks. And I wanted it plain and boring. No surprises. My friend, and fellow Chico State Wildcat, Jesse has been doing chemo for a year, and he told me that when something sounds good, eat it, because most of the time food will sound terrible. So there. It was the first regular meal I had in about six days, and the fettuccine alfredo was everything I dreamed it would be.

While we were eating in the Olive Garden, I noticed a table of old ladies, and they were drinking red wine and martinis with lunch. I hope when I’m their age I’m going to lunch with my friends on a Wednesday and getting wasted at the Olive Garden. Sounds awesome. Actually, I would prefer Chili’s. Chili’s is my favorite chain restaurant, and if you want to judge me for that, then – well – I’m sorry you’ve never had Awesome Blossom. They are amazing.



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