DMX

Busy week ahead. Tuesday, I go for labs. Wednesday, I meet with the oncologist and get my first stand-alone infusion of Keytruda. Friday, I have surgery.

Double mastectomy.

The surgeon said for my family not to wait at the hospital because it will likely be an eight-hour surgery. I will be spending the night and going home Saturday (barring any complications). I’m so nervous about it – not really the surgery itself because I will be out of it. But, I’m scared about my recovery, possible complications and how difficult it will be on my family. From all the stories I’ve read online, the surgery seems very much like chemo: different for everyone. Some people recover quickly and have fantastic results. Others struggle and their results are less than ideal. Since I’m going flat, I’m hoping that this will be a one and done surgery without the need for revision later.

Lumpectomy was an option, since the cancer was confined to my right breast and the tumor is smaller. However, after weighing everything out I decided that a double mastectomy would be the best choice for me.

  • According to the surgeon, mastectomy and lumpectomy have similar survival rates. However, lumpectomy has a slightly higher recurrence rate. That means the possibility of more treatment and additional surgery is higher for lumpectomy. No thank you.
  • My breasts are very large and I don’t like the idea of having one smaller and being lopsided. I already struggle with finding clothes and bras that fit.
  • My breasts are also very dense. Every mammogram I’ve ever had has required a follow up ultrasound. My oncologist said that with a lumpectomy I would have mammograms every 3 months for two years and every 6 months for the following three years. That sounds like a lot of appointments and follow ups and anxiety.
  • A lumpectomy would also require radiation – eight weeks, five days a week for a total of 40 treatments.
  • Finally, I have insurance right now but I’m not 100% confident that I will be able to keep that insurance long term. There is a very real possibility that six months or a year from now I will not be able to pay for additional testing, scans or treatment. So, I need to set myself up for success and do as much as I can to minimize future costs.

Even though I know I’ve made the best decision for me, I’m still scared. Everything about this cancer diagnosis and the treatment has been overwhelming. I can’t even think about what I’ve been through or what I still have left. I feel paralyzed, like a deer in headlights.

If you are religious, say a little prayer for me. If you aren’t, send some good vibes my way. I can use all the positivity I can get!

The Waiting Game

grandkids make me happy
hair is growing

Two weeks from now my body is going to be completely different. I’m nervous about the actual surgery and nervous about recovery. I know that everything will be okay, but it is still hard going through it. I want it to be over with already…

The last time I talked to my oncologist, she seemed optimistic (even though she extended my treatment). She said that there was a 75% chance that the cancer was gone, but to keep space in my mind for the possibility of more chemo should they find cancer cells during surgery. I had the breast MRI done May 30 and the results were released to my chart the following Sunday.

Partial response to treatment.

The tumor is still there, smaller but there. My lymph nodes are clear, which is fantastic. But I wish that the chemotherapy had been more successful. I don’t see my oncologist until June 18th, two days before my surgery. I don’t know what impact this will have on treatment. I’m hoping that even though the tumor is still there that the cancer is dead. The last six months have been so hard I am dreading the possibility of more chemotherapy.

There are a lot of things that I want (need) to do before surgery – spring cleaning, stock freezer with premade meals, organize my life. But also, all I want to do is sleep for the next two weeks. I’m tired.

“Perseverance is the hard work you do after you get tired of doing the hard work you already did.”

Major Milestone and Minor Changes

Yay!!! Yesterday was my last chemotherapy treatment. 16 rounds down. I can’t believe I made it through. It felt like time was moving so slowly, just endless days stretching out with nothing to fill them but pain and worry. I’m nowhere close to the end of treatment, but for now I’m going to celebrate that this portion is done. I did it.

Ariel, Mikal Jade, Echo and Mike were able to come and watch me ring the bell. Everyone else was either in school, working or out of town. Still, the amount of love I felt was amazing. I am grateful to have such a supportive and caring family. I know not everyone on this journey is as lucky, so I am very blessed.

Yesterday I also met with my oncologist about my treatment plan moving forward. There were a few minor changes.

Originally, I was going to take a 4-6 week break to recover from chemo before surgery and another 6 weeks of recovery after – followed by six months of Keytruda. Now, my oncologist doesn’t feel it is wise to take a break so is scheduling my first dose of standalone Keytruda for June 18. She also increased the length of treatment from six months to one year. Yikes.

A couple weeks ago I got the appointment for my follow up breast MRI for June 25. The oncologist said they were booked and that was the earliest appointment I could get. When I called the facility, they said that they didn’t keep a waiting list for cancelations but that I could call back every morning to check for open slots. So, that’s what I’ve been doing. When I met with my surgeon this morning, she said that wait was unacceptable. After just a few minutes her assistant had me scheduled for the MRI tomorrow morning! And my surgery (double mastectomy) is scheduled for June 20.

Deep breath.

So, what I am still waiting on? So far, I haven’t had any issues with my lymph nodes and am expecting that to continue. However, if anything looks suspicious on the MRI I will go in to have a biopsy before surgery. If they need to be removed, it will be less invasive to do everything at once. I really want to avoid a second surgery if possible. After surgery, they will send the tissue off to get tested. We are hoping for pCR (pathological complete response). If I achieve that, it will mean that the cancer is gone and my long term success is more likely. If any cancer remains, we will have to discuss the possibility of more chemo.

I am excited to move on to the next step but still feeling some anxiety about the unknown.

Living With Cancer

I haven’t posted in a while, mainly due to the fatigue. I’ve written dozens of posts in my head but haven’t had the energy to type them out. This AC chemo + immunotherapy is awful. I’m currently a week out from my third dose and still having trouble getting out of bed. I only have one more, but the thought of going back for my last one is giving me extreme anxiety.

A friend left this comment on Facebook so I decided to answer it here.

how are you feeling?? how many more treatments? can you talk about your cancer? my mom has it and she c/o pain but can’t explain the pain and she says she feels different, but can’t explain that either. i’m always curious how these cells transform our bodies and it’s mind boggling to me. I wonder is it the csncer that changes you or the treatment. whatever is happening in your part of the world, I pray God continues to watch over you and protect you and your family. I hope today is a good day, friend. 

I feel horrible but agree with your mom – it is hard to explain. During the first phase of my treatment (Dec-March) I was getting Taxol (chemotherapy) every week and Keytruda (immunotherapy) every 3 weeks. I would be fairly sick for 2-3 days and very fatigued for 2-3 more. The last day or two before treatment were good, so I looked forward to those. Looking back, I can’t believe I was even complaining. I switched to AC chemo (Red Devil) and Keytruda every 3 weeks and the last couple of months have been so hard. I get sick before even leaving the infusion center and it is two weeks of feeling like I’m going to die. The third week I still feel sick, but it is more like the way I felt for the first medicine. Tolerable.

So what does it feel like?

Fatigue. It doesn’t get better with rest. It is overwhelming. Even small things like sweeping the floor or folding laundry will tire me out and I will need a two hour hap after. Some days I can’t do anything at all. It is hard to explain, but even my brain is tired. Like, I can’t use the energy to think. I’m forgetting words, have to write notes and set reminders on my phone. As soon as something goes in my brain it is gone.

Pain. There is so much pain. I have had a headache for five months. On bad days I can’t even stand to hear the television or music, so I lay in bed in the dark trying to sleep. Everyone responds differently to chemo, but I have a lot of bone pain. It feels like growing pains or shin splints… Also abdominal pain. I don’t know if that is from the chemotherapy or the immunotherapy, but the inside of my body feels like it has been put through a mixer. I can’t point at one specific spot and say that it hurts. It is very non-specific. After starting AC, my abdominal pain has gotten 1000% worse. It comes in waves and when it gets bad, I double over in pain, in tears and unable to speak.

My oncologist said that the chemo works by attacking cells that divide quickly, so any cells in your body that divide quickly are going to be affected. That is why your hair falls out, mouth sores, stomach pain, etc. Before starting treatment, I had no symptoms associated with the cancer except for weight loss.

I also have neuropathy in my hands and feet. They are constantly tingling – like pins and needles.

The immunotherapy makes me break out in rashes all over my body, so my skin is also sensitive.

I have insomnia, but sleeping is the only way to escape the pain. I’m awake at 4 am and end up taking naps during the day. By 7 or 8 I’m exhausted and in bed. But I can’t stay asleep for more than a couple hours at a time.

Nausea. I have three different medications for it and they have worked well to keep me from actually throwing up. But the queasy feeling never really goes away. It feels like motion sickness, but painful? It is like I am aware of every part of my body all the time. While the pain fluctuates, the constant awareness does not.

Any one of these symptoms would be hard to deal with, but the fact that they are all happening at the same time and they never stop is crazy. The mental part is almost harder, because you know that as soon as they ease up you are going in to do it all over again. There is also the worry about whether or not it is working – if this is going to be worth it. I have triple negative breast cancer, which is very aggressive. There is always the fear in the back of my mind that the chemo isn’t working or that the cancer will come back or spread.

Since I started treatment in December, I’ve had fifteen rounds of chemotherapy and seven rounds of immunotherapy. On May 28, I will have my last one (Yay!!). The 29th I meet with the surgeon to go over options and schedule surgery. June 25th I have my breast MRI. Hopefully, the cancer is gone. Of course, we won’t know for sure until pathology comes back after surgery.

Even if the cancer is gone and I achieve pCR (pathological complete response), my oncologist still wants to do another twelve months of Keytruda. If any cancer cells are remaining, she said it will be another six months of chemo, in addition to the immunotherapy. Honestly, I can’t even think about that. I don’t know how I could do this for another six months. So, I’m hoping for the best and trying to keep a positive attitude. That’s half the battle!

Life goes on.

There was a time, back in the day, when I blogged every night. It was cathartic, an outlet for my frustration as well as a creative endeavor. When I started this, I thought that I would do a daily post to document my journey through cancer. Ha. This fatigue is so overwhelming that (most days) the thought of opening the computer to write is more than I can bear. Most days I feel like I’m holding my breath, willing the storm in my body to calm… afraid to rock the boat.

The first few months, I was so stressed out about the things I couldn’t do around the house. Dirty dishes and crumbs on the floor drove me crazy. Now, I don’t even notice the mess. My priorities have changed. In a way, I feel like I’m in the eye of the storm. There are a million things swirling around me and I can’t afford to pay attention to any of them.

The second cycle of AC has been a little different – less pain and neuropathy but more fatigue and nausea. So, it balances out to remain awful.

Red Devil, 2 of 4

This is the fifth month that I’ve been in treatment and I’m so ready for this portion to be over. Six cycles down, including six rounds of immunotherapy and fourteen chemotherapy treatments. Just two more and I’ll have a short break before surgery. Sometime in the next month I’ll be going for another breast MRI to check the progress. I’m not really nervous. The tumor is no longer palpable, so I know the chemo is working. Best case scenario, the cancer will be completely gone and I’ll achieve pCR. Worst case? The tumor is smaller, but the cancer has spread to other areas. Of course, TNBC has such a high rate of recurrence (40%) that everything could go well, and it might still come back. That is the scary part – that all of this will have been for nothing.

In addition to the MRI, I need to meet with the surgeon to develop a plan for surgery. Treatment after surgery will depend on what type of surgery I decide to do and the results of pathology. So, there are still a lot of unknowns.

For now, I’m going to try and focus on one day at a time. I’m spending as much time with my grandkids as possible, although it is hard for me to play with them anymore.

Red Devil Update – The River

Tomorrow, I go for my second treatment (Keytruda + AC chemo) and thought I should look back and reflect on the last three weeks. This round of treatment has been a hundred times worse that the first four cycles. Even though I’m going every three weeks instead of every week, the side effects are much stronger and last longer. The first week I couldn’t do anything at all. The second week was a little better, but still terrible. The third week was manageable, but I feel like I’ve been through the ringer.

4 days after treatment
19 days after treatment

The nausea hasn’t been bad. I have several anti-nausea meds that help with that. There is a general feeling of being unwell, like something is wrong with my body but I can’t pinpoint what or where. The fatigue is debilitating. I will sit there for hours trying to get the energy to do simple tasks. My life has gotten stripped down to the bare minimum, stuck in a holding pattern trying to make it through these couple of months. Other side effects include a constant headache, rashes, neuropathy. I was prepared for all of this, but what I wasn’t prepared for is the pain. Joint paint, bone pain, abdominal pain, pain under my fingernails… Ugh! I spent the first week crying uncontrollably because it was unbearable. But gradually, it has gotten better – just in time to do it all over again.

Time is a sort of river of passing events, and strong is its current; no sooner is a thing brought to sight than it is swept by and another takes its place, and this too will be swept away.

Marcus Aurelius

When it gets too bad, I remind myself that this too shall pass. It helps not to fight the pain, but to embrace it. Feel it wash over you and let time do its thing. I cannot control what is happening to me, but I can control my mind and find quiet and peace in the suffering. I am grateful for it. Everything that I’m going through right now is designed to beat this cancer and give me more time with my family, so how can I not appreciate that?

FAQ

Since starting the raffle, I’ve gotten a few questions so wanted to address them here.

Why a raffle? Don’t you have a GoFundMe?

I do have a GoFundMe that my daughter set up. It is to cover medical expenses as well but is an ongoing thing that we are leaving open while I’m in treatment. I don’t use it to actively raise money but if someone asks, I can send the link. The raffle is a short-term fundraiser to raise money during specific periods. This one (Easter raffle) was set to coincide with the beginning of my AC chemotherapy. We will probably have one more when I have surgery.

Do you have insurance?

Yes. Cancer is incredibly expensive to treat, so without insurance I would just die. Kidding, but not kidding. However, there are things that insurance doesn’t cover.

Does this fundraiser really benefit you?

Yes! Our local law enforcement has warned people to be cautious when contributing to fundraisers because of potential scams. This is one reason I’m linking my blog. I want to be transparent about what I’m going through.

Why now?

Many of you know about the mass shooting that happened in Las Cruces last month. (If not, click here for more information.) Our community is struggling, and a lot of people are raising money for the victims and their families. I thought about postponing the raffle but decided to go ahead with it. It’s been planned for quite a while and there were other people/businesses involved. That being said, there is absolutely no comparison between what I’m going through and losing someone to gun violence. If you only have money to donate to one cause, buy a ticket for the raffle for the Esrada/Arzabel family (drawing Aprill 11). They lost one family member and have another still in the hospital.

-How do I get a ticket?

The tickets are $10. You can pay cash in person at Dunn Edwards, 2301 E Lohman. The prize is set up there as well. You can also purchase tickets using Zelle (575-489-8464), Apple Pay (575-489-8464), Venmo (@kristykorg) or CashApp ($KristalArmendariz). Please include your name and phone number so that I can contact you should you win!

REMINDER: donations to the GoFundMe page will NOT enter you in the drawing. It is separate from the raffle.

RAFFLE TIME!

In 2017 I opened Mile Marker 39, a painting company in Las Cruces. It was a family affair, and I loved working with my husband and kids. I had hoped to keep working through the cancer treatments but physically can’t handle it. Losing our main source of income at the same time that we are dealing with multiple medical appointments a week is difficult. I’m currently undergoing chemotherapy and immunotherapy and looking at surgery in the next six months. We are holding this raffle to raise money for medical expenses.

Tickets are $10 and will be available April 1 – April 17. Drawing will be held on April 17 so that we can deliver before Easter (Las Cruces area only). Prize package is on display at Dunn Edwards (2301 E Lohman) and includes the following:

LAERPS Kamado Charcoal Grill with Smoker, Kingsford Charcoal with Chimney Starter, Insulated Lunchbox, COLDEST 40 oz Tumbler, Easter Candy, Gift Bag and 2 Fives of Versasatin courtesy of Dunn Edwards.

Tickets can be purchased via Apple Pay (575-489-8464), Zelle (575-489-8464), Venmo (@kristykorg) or CashApp ($KristalArmendariz). Please include name for raffle.

If you would like to contribute without entering the raffle, you can donate directly to the GoFundMe set up by my daughter here.

If you can’t buy a ticket, please consider sharing. Anything helps! Here are some images you can use for social media:

Here are the QR codes for payment options and the GoFundMe. REMINDER: Money donated directly to the GoFundMe with NOT purchase a raffle ticket. Tickets must be purchased using one of the other options.

Thank you for your support!

The Red Devil

Yesterday (now two days ago because it has taken me that long to finish this) I started the dreaded AC chemotherapy along with my regular immunotherapy (Keytruda). It was/is pretty bad. I’m able to control the nausea pretty well with medication, but I feel absolutely horrible. It is like the worst motion sickness, combined with headache, joint/bone pain, extreme fatigue and neuropathy in my hands and feel. This round there is the added bonus of sharp pains shooting under my fingernails. Good times.

Before going in, the red drip, and during treatment:

Positive energy going in
the red devil
during treatment

This is the first time that I’ve felt such an instant reaction to the medication. I went in determined to have a good experience but instantly got sick. The nurses were concerned because my color drained and I started shaking. Boy, was I glad to have my chemo quilt yesterday!

Today I didn’t feel any better, but I know that this too shall pass. I was talking to my son, and he said to focus on the glimmers of hope. Small steps… progress… days when I don’t feel so bad. That is good advice, because looking at the next year stretching out in front of me is daunting.

AC chemotherapy, second day after the first cycle (March 27, 2025)

I never would have imagined posting such unflattering photos of myself online. But I want to keep it real here. I’m documenting this for my kids, for the future. If I look bad, I guarantee that I feel worse. I’ve cried so much in the last two days I don’t have any tears left. I’m learning to let go and feel the feelings, cry when I need to and pull myself back up.

Maybe someone else diagnosed with TNBC will find this and know that they are not alone. It is a rough road for sure, but easier when traveled together.

Quartermaster

Two days ago, I had my last dose of Taxol: four cycles with three treatments in each cycle. It feels good to acknowledge this small milestone because it means I’m one step closer to beating this thing. I told my dad that I was happy to be halfway to the halfway point and he laughed. “We’ll have to call you quartermaster,” he said.

So, to celebrate here is a quick overview of my treatment plan and where I go from here.

STAGING

Diagnosis and Testing

November ’24 diagnosed with TNBC (2.8cm tumor). Insurance denied scans to check for spread. Stage 2 based on tumor size.

NEOADJUVANT THERAPY

Immunotherapy and Chemotherapy

Keytruda every 3 weeks for 6 months.

Taxol every week for 3 months. DONE!

Doxorubicin every 3 weeks for 3 months.

SURGERY

Lumpectomy or Mastectomy

Surgical plan TBD.

ADJUVANT THERAPY

Immunotherapy and Radiation

Keytruda every 3 weeks for 6 months.

Radiation 5 days a week for 8 weeks.

Possibility of additional chemotherapy depending on pathology results from surgery.

To be honest, I’m a little nervous about starting this next round of chemo with Doxurubicin. It is nicknamed “The Red Devil” and has a reputation for being difficult to tolerate.

The first three months with Taxol have been difficult, but manageable. I have been exhausted, nauseous, rashy and in a lot of abdominal pain. BUT, I haven’t been throwing up and have been (mostly) able to eat. So, it’s been a mixed bag. If I’ve learned anything going through this process so far, it is to be grateful for the little wins.

The hardest part for me has been not being able to take care of my family the way that I want to. I can’t work and that has been a huge strain on the household. I don’t have the energy to take care of the grandkids or clean the house. The stress (financial and emotional) is difficult to manage.

Three months into a twelve-month journey and I’ve already changed so much. The photo on the left is the last selfie I took before my diagnosis (October ’24). The photo on the right was taken a couple days ago during my last Taxol dose.

FUNDRAISING

We are going to be doing a raffle next month to raise money for medical expenses. Still working on the details, but it should be fun.

For ongoing support, my daughter has set up a GoFundMe here.

Or, if you just want to buy me a coffee my CashApp is $KristalArmendariz.

Thank you so much to everyone who has donated, shared posts, liked or commented on social media, called, texted or dropped off food/gifts. It means a lot to me and my family to know that we are not alone in this.