Welcome to Gen Z Translator. This is What’s Up Wednesday, where I give you a personal update on a Wednesday. Clever, right? If you’re new, you can subscribe here and follow me on X/Twitter or Threads. Views and experiences my own.
Today was chemotherapy round six of six!
Finding out I have cancer was never in the plan, as I’m sure most people with cancer would tell you. I’m a worrier, always trying to plan for the worst case scenario, but even cancer didn’t occur to me until I first found a lump.
I like to keep this newsletter a fun place for goofing off and writing about pop culture trends that suit my fancy. I never wanted having cancer to define me, but the reality is, it’s a factor that will affect me for the next ten years, if not my whole life.
It’s really scary to face what’s next. More of my hair is falling out now. My heart scans came back a tad abnormal. The last time I went under for surgery, I ended up in the hospital for eight days. I’ve had uncomfortable rashes on my head and am currently going through pre-menopause. My nose is always running because I have no nose hairs. Lol.1
Everything is different. Or perhaps the better word to use is “new.”'
It’s a new experience, and one that helps me better understand other cancer patients’ battles and even uncommon diseases that patients are fighting in addition to their diagnosis. I understand the impact of autoimmune disorders better. I have much more appreciation for caretakers and those in the medical field devoting late hours to helping their patients.
The smiley face balloon has become a symbol of resilience for me. I got it after my port placement surgery five months ago, and it’s still kicking. Since, I’ve gotten smiley face candles for my birthday and turned my pills into smiley faces as a reminder to take them. It reminds me of the good in the bad, and the strength a little bit of love can give you.
Chemotherapy is arguably the hardest part of my journey, but that doesn’t mean the rest is going to be easy. Because the tumor is on my left side, the radiologists will have to work to avoid radiating my heart. We still don’t know the exact response my body has had to the treatment. I have, however, opted for the less invasive surgery, which has a quicker recovery time and a similar reoccurrence rate as a full mastectomy.
I’m looking forward to a trip my family is planning to the bottom of the Grand Canyon next spring, and there may be some celebratory events and projects coming up to mark getting through the hardest parts of my treatment as I start anti-HER2 therapy for a year.
Writing has always been my “thing,” and doctors never have. This journey has been challenging and exhausting. Thanks for reading what I’ve had to say through it. Here’s to – knock on wood – a lot more writing and a few less doctors. Wishing you all the smiley face balloons the eye can see.
You can read my last health update here ⤵️
See the full Gen Z Dictionary here.
Lol: Laugh out loud