Life as I know it is about to change drastically. I found out this past Monday that my current treatment is no longer working and that un a couple of weeks I will need to move on to weekly IV chemo in hopes of getting this cancer under control. This will be treatment #10 for me, #5 in the last 11 months. I feel like my cancer journey has turned a corner that there is no coming back from. The coming days up until June 1st when I start my new treatment will be spent trying to enjoy the life as I know it. I feel in my heart, that I am a different person or at least now becoming one. I was asked this past week by my doctor what is important to me as we approach this phase of the journey. The only thing I can think of is Quinn and Colin. It is important to me to remain “myself” for as long as I can. I don’t want my kids to have to visit me in the hospital all the time and watch their once strong mother deteriorate before their eyes. I know this is what is going to happen and it breaks my heart that this will be their reality in the coming years.

Right now I feel sad, defeated and so so angry. Angry that this is my life. Angry that while having to deal with all of this, I still have to deal with the normal everyday BS that is life. I want a break, I need a break. I have tried to remain hopeful, have faith and believe that their is a miracle out their for me but honestly I don’t really think that is what is in the cards for me. I don’t get how I could walk around Universal Studios with my kids last week for almost 12 hours all while my liver is full of tumors. As I told my doctor this past week, if someone could guarantee me a set amount of time where I would feel good and be myself and then when that time came to an end I could take a magic pill to end it all I would. Also, as I told her there is no need for concern by this statement and no need to call the social worker. You try living one day in my shoes and tell me you won’t feel the same.

But as I have in the past, I will buckle up for this new ride. Get the chemo every week. Use the cold cap in hopes of preserving my hair and hope that this med gives me some more time. Sucks that while most people are thinking of their hopes and dreams for the future, I can only hope for a few more months of a really horrible and painful life. Just know that when you see me and I smile and say I’m fine, I am dying inside both literally and figuratively.