The first slap

The first slap
This photo was taken the day after I was diagnosed, and it is my first bitch slap at cancer. I'm the one with the icepack symbolically placed on my boob. My teammates changed our team's uniform to pink at the last minute, and I came off the soccer field that night with one goal and a whole lot of love. Several of these women are my close friends, but they are all warriors, and they all helped me set the tone for this fight.

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

Penultimate Infusion

Okay, I don't even know how long it's been since I posted on this blog. I think the increasing periods of time that pass between my posts is an indication that I may close the blog down in the near future. But I'm not ready to do that yet. I've been holding off until my treatments are completely finished, and today is my penultimate Herceptin infusion. Three weeks from today will my last, and then on March 13th I'll have my chemo port removed.

I started Herceptin (Trastuzemab) on December 9, 2013. The standard course of treatment is to get Herceptin for one year, but I was not able to get Herceptin during the three weeks prior to, or post surgery last march, or during the eight weeks I was getting Adriamycin and Cyclophosphomide last spring. So, we had to add those 2-1/2 months back into the timeline.

One thing (among many) that I have come to understand through my long strange trip through Cancerland has been the significance of multiple milestones, both big and small. Well, these two coming up on March 11th and then with port removal on the 13th are big ones! But they won't be the last. I am taking an aromatase inhibitor for five years, and will have occasional check-ups with my oncologist during that time as well. I am currently considered to be in remission, and they don't call the cancer cured unless it stays away for five years. So, that will certainly be another very important milestone for me.

In the mean time, I am simply loving life. In fact, I don't know that I've ever been this happy. I'm busy at work, finished my book, enjoy seeing the kids growing and loving their lives, have started learning yoga, and am playing soccer. And those are just some of the obvious things. It doesn't include the littler and more mundane stuff--stuff that seems breathtaking when you stop to notice it. Sunlight on geese taking off from the pond, a hug from Craig, Ben and Jerry's, an awesome new chicken casserole recipe, a clear crescent moon in a hyper cold night sky, baby kale, Dolores' big brown eyes and her mini tail-tip wag, sparkly snow crystals, Glassy Babies, a stranger's smile, that cool moment when you wake up and don't know exactly which day it is, a new pair of boots, the first sip of coffee in the morning, a Facebook invite from an old friend, a really juicy clementine, the anticipation of a road trip, ....  Fill in your own blanks here, and appreciate all of them.


  1. Thought I posted in response but it vanished...could be a repeat. I am ALWAYS so impressed by your optimism, cheer and thoughtful approach to life. You are an amazing person and an inspiration to all of us. WHAT WILL WE DO TO CELEBRATE YOU THIS MARCH?!!!

  2. Lara, I have to admit that when I see you these days, the word cancer doesn't enter my thoughts at all. Your post is a real eye-opener and reminds me that your "trip through cancerland" is still ongoing with lots of more milestones to be celebrated. I completely agree with Zanne - your optimism is remarkable, and we definitely need a last Herceptin infusion and port-removal celebration in March! Cathrine


To comment, be sure to select an ID under "comment as." Anonymous works for those who don't want to comment using their Google, Yahoo, or other ID.