I had decided to take a break from updating on my page after my last infusion, so I could focus on healing and spending my time with the family before surgery. Then 6 months went by. I apologize for everyone who was following along for updates! Life just happened, and writing is clearly not my strong suit. I also get in my head, and get paralyzed with my own pressure to write something profound along with my medical news. I follow these incredible individuals who move me to tears with their ability to put their thoughts and feelings and creativity into words, and any inspired writing I try just ends up smelling like farts. Yup. Philip Yancey, Kate Bowler, I'll just leave it to you guys.

Tonight I counted up all my medical visits, treatments, surgeries, scans, and I've had 74 appointments since July 1. I had a very short 3 weeks between my last chemo infusion and my bilateral mastectomy on July 21. I squeezed in an iron infusion, an echocardiogram, and a camping trip in there somehow, even amazed myself by managing to do a super-fun 7 mile downhill trail on our new mountain bikes with the family! 
Surgery lasted 6.5 hours, and was honestly, a pretty brutal recovery. I slept in a recliner for 6 weeks, as I didn't have good range of motion. For about a week or so I had T-Rex arms, as I wasn't able to move my arms much after surgery. You know you've reached new heights of recovery when your 9 year old exclaims "Mom- you went to the bathroom by yourself, you are doing SO WELL!" My family took such good care of me, helping me dress, eat, and do all the things. Also- I don't feel like I was sufficiently warned about drains they put in. Helpful, yes, but awful!  In surgery they also took 7 lymph nodes, and 3 of them came back positive for cancer. The pathology report showed that chemotherapy had killed 85% of my tumor, and 45% of the cancer in the lymph nodes, which is awesome. 
I had another reconstruction surgery on my left side on Aug 19, 4 weeks after my initial mastectomy. Covid cases were at a high point, so Nick had to drop me off at the door, and that sure wasn't our favorite. I've actually had to do most of my treatments and scans alone, which has been pretty tough for both Nick and I, leaving him feeling pretty helpless, which is the worst.  My final reconstruction surgery is scheduled for mid- April, what a day that will be! It's been a long and pretty rough recovery, and yes, I question my reconstruction decision regularly, but would rather have tried and decided against it than have regret that I didn't try.
Because of the cancer spreading to my lymph nodes, I had to go in for a whole body bone scan and a Head/Abdominal CT scan, to check for any metastasis, or further spread/tumors. Which is just plain terrifying.  
All scans were clear- and I can't even start on all my feelings about that - massive relief, survivors guilt, the "why me/why not me", and triggering my grief over loved ones that did not get the all clear. 

Radiation therapy was next, my treatment course was 28 times, 5 days a week. I started Sept 15, so we had a week to get kids settled in new school routine, before starting mine. Radiation itself felt like a breeze, it is quick and the procedure is painless. By the last week, the area that's being treated got pretty burned and sore, but the worst of it resolved in a couple weeks after. Nick and I flew to Northern Ireland 3 days after radiation ended for a week to breath and laugh and walk with some of the best people, which was just lovely and amazing.

The beginning of November marked the end of "active treatment", meaning chemo, surgery, radiation. I currently have 3 different meds I'm on to prevent reoccurrence or growth of cancer cells that may still be floating around my body. Two of them are hormone suppressants, since my cancer fed on estrogen and progesterone, and the third is a targeted immunotherapy, which attacks the specific cell and disables it. These treatments will be ongoing for the next 2-5 years. They come with some unpleasant side affects and long term detriments, but right now I'm feeling grateful for people who have dedicated their lives to researching and developing medication that does some pretty incredible stuff.
Nick said to me tonight that this year I've been hit with a ton of bricks, and I'll probably start feeling them one brick at a time. So much to process, and it takes intention to slow down to feel, breathe and allow space for that process. It feels so easy to jump back into the busy "normal" now that I'm "back", and to shove this whole year into a little box and close the lid, but with the Lord's grace, I'm working on keeping that lid wide open.
Thank you all for praying, loving, and supporting us during this crazy unexpected difficult season. For those who leaned in and cared so deeply, we love you. Onward towards another year that I now view as an unearned gift! 
Please reach out if you want any gory details, (I love sharing those!) or have any questions, or want to share a cup of coffee together and talk about how great my hair is. :)