ups and downs

It’s been almost two weeks since I’ve written here, but every day feels the same. I think I might be feeling better and then I do something – dishes, laundry, walk outside… and the fatigue hits me. The symptoms have definitely been getting worse over the past couple of months and I’m tired.

Something new that just started happening the last week is that I’ll get the chills and start shaking. My doctor said to go to the emergency room if my temperature goes over 100, so I always check when I get the chills. But no fever. My temp has been dropping to 95. I’ve been using a heating pad or taking a hot bath to bring it back up and once it gets close to 97 I’ll stop shaking and be fine.

These photos were all taken on the same day and are pretty representative of a typical day for me. I got up and got ready, feeling hopeful about the day (1st pic). Had to go to the center for treatment and was feeling pretty tired, but still holding it together (2nd pic). Came home and crashed – tired but also in a lot of pain: abdominal pain, headache, body aches, chills, neuropathy.

good morning
cycle 4, treatment 2
good night

I have one more session of the Taxol + immunotherapy and then we are switching over to AC + immunotherapy. I’m not sure what to expect. From what I’ve read online AC can cause more nausea, but it’s hard to say. These drugs have such a wide range of side effects, and they affect everyone to differing degrees.

I’m going to hope for the best and keep on keeping on…

March 3rd

Today is Triple Negative Breast Cancer Day, the beginning of an entire month dedicated to this disease. Before being diagnosed, I had never even heard of it. Now, it has taken over my life.

The last three months have been a whirlwind of doctors’ appointments, lab work, scans, tests and treatment. Most days I don’t even recognize myself in the mirror. I’m not even halfway through the first six months of chemotherapy and immunotherapy. I still have surgery, radiation, six months of immunotherapy (and the possibility of more chemotherapy) to look forward to after I’m done with my current therapies.

But life goes on.

I’m trying not to focus on all the things I can’t do. Work, move, sleep, think. Instead, I’m trying to lean into the things I can do. Breathe, be patient, accept what I cannot change, choose to be happy.

Spending time with my grandkids means so much to me. They don’t understand anything about cancer. They don’t notice or care that I don’t have hair. A bad blood test means nothing to them. They want snacks and hugs and play time. I’m learning to let go of worry and expectations and live in the moment. When I’m tired, I rest. When I’m hungry, I eat. I’m enjoying every moment I can, as much as I can.

Because life goes on.

family

Last week, my daughter went to treatment with me. This week, my youngest son was going to stay with me. BUT…. my white blood cells were too low again so I got a shot to boost them. I’m going back tomorrow to redo my labs. Then, depending on the results, it will either be another shot or my chemo.

It is incredibly frustrating to have to pause treatment. Every day that this is put off is another day longer tacked on to the end. I just want it to be done. The hard part is that, even if I do everything I’m supposed to do, there is still a chance that I won’t be done at the end of it. The cancer might not be 100% gone. It might come back. There is just no certainty and that’s hard.

Rough week.

a week ago…

I didn’t have treatment last week due to low WBC count. I was tired, but not exhausted. Every day felt closer to a good day, like if I could just rest a little I would wake up feeling fantastic. I didn’t, of course. But it was a hopeful week.

Monday I went for treatment and any thought of feeling ok went right out the window. This week has been ROUGH to say the least. It didn’t help that I had a colonoscopy to prep for. That went well. Now I’m up at 2:30 am in pain and unable to sleep. Hungry, but nauseous. Terrible headache.

I keep reminding myself that this too shall pass. Nothing lasts forever.

what a difference a year makes

January 2024 vs January 2025

These photos were taken almost exactly a year apart. Last year, I was in California helping my daughter. This year, I can barely get out of bed. I’ve lost my hair and about fifty pounds. I’m covered in rashes and scaly patches. As bad as I look, I feel worse. But I am happier today (and more grateful) than I was a year ago.

Why?

Maybe when you are forced to fight and struggle for something you appreciate it more. I have been blown away by the support of my family, friends and even strangers. My kids have really stepped up to help – organizing fundraisers, running errands, taking over chores. My husband (who hates waiting and has never gone to the doctor with me or the kids before) has taken me to all my appointments, labs and treatments without complaint.

I am lucky.

Everyone’s journey with breast cancer is different. Some people are able to have surgery and be done. Others have chemotherapy, immunotherapy, radiation or a combination of all three. Some people gain weight, some people lose weight. Some tolerate treatment well with few symptoms, others struggle. Some people lose their hair, some don’t.

The type of cancer I have (triple negative) is very aggressive, so my treatment is as well. I’m currently doing chemotherapy (every Monday for 24 weeks) that includes Paclitaxel and Carboplatin. Every three weeks, I also get immunotherapy with Pembrolizumab. Every Friday, I get lab work done to ensure I am strong enough to handle treatment. This week, I wasn’t. Instead of my regular treatment, I had to go in twice for injections to boost my white blood cells.

Even after these six months are up, I won’t be done. It will be surgery, followed by another six months of immunotherapy. I will also get 6-8 weeks of radiation (five days a week). Hopefully, all this will be worth it, and I will achieve pCR (pathological complete response).

Whatever happens, I will continue to fight and choose to be happy.

If you want to donate to medical expenses, participate in the fundraiser (February is a Valentine’s gift basket raffle), or buy me a coffee, here is the information:

  • GoFundMe – organized by my daughter, this helps with medical expenses
  • CashApp – $KristalArmendariz
  • Zelle – If you are interested in sending money directly this way, please email me or message me on Facebook/Instagram for the phone number.

symptom update

I started out using a handwritten record of symptoms but found that it was hard for me to visualize or utilize the data. Chemo brain is real! A few weeks ago, I started using an excel spreadsheet to track symptoms and severity over time. I really like that it consolidates everything into a graph at the top so that I can visualize trends over time.

The symptoms that bother me the most are the ones you can’t see – fatigue most of all. The symptoms that are apparent to others are the rashy skin and hair loss. So, here’s how those are going:

so tired

My hair is definitely not growing out and is very patchy. My skin is painful and I’m getting a lot of small sores all over my scalp. I’ve found wearing a soft ‘chemo cap’ while I sleep helps. I’m getting a lot of rough scaly patches on my face, which isn’t fun. I’ve also gotten a lot of allergic like rashes all over my legs. Taking Benedryl for that and it helps enough.

I’ve experienced a wide variety of symptoms, some daily and some just once in a while:

DAILY

  • Fatigue!!
  • Nausea
  • Headache
  • Insomnia
  • Rashes
  • Hair Loss
  • Mouth Pain
  • Skin Sensitivity
  • Flu Like Aches and Pain
  • Chemo Brain

OCCASIONAL

  • Neuropathy
  • Constipation
  • Diarhhea
  • Cramping
  • Bloody Stool
  • Chest Tightness
  • Shortness of Breath

new normal

on managing expectations

This chemo journey has been easier than I feared but harder than I expected. Any one moment is manageable. A day is doable. It is the fact that it doesn’t end that makes it difficult.

Six months ago, if I had woken up feeling like I do today, I would have said (on a scale of 1 to 10 of feeling badly) that it was a six and I should stay in bed. Drink lots of water, rest and listen to my body.

But my body is screaming at me in ALL CAPS and it never ends.

Today, I’m thinking that it feels like a two or three and I need to get up and do as much as possible before it gets worse.

I am still in the process of recalibrating my baseline and defining what feeling ‘good’ means for me right now. I have nineteen more treatments before surgery and another six months (at least) of radiation and immunotherapy after that. So, I’m not even halfway to the halfway point.

There have been a few tears this week, as I’ve been overwhelmed with the fatigue and stress and fear of the future. Honestly, I’m not even worried about my health or treatment or the possibility of dying. It is the constant worry of daily life. How am I going to pay the electric bill when I can’t even get out of bed to work? How am I going to mop the floor when I can’t even manage sweeping up? What about the dishes? The laundry? Holidays and birthdays are coming up and I don’t have the energy or money to plan parties or cook family dinners.

A bit of good news this week is that I was able to get my CT scans and the bone scan. Everything came back clear, which is fantastic news. The tech for my bone scan told me that my pelvis had been broken at some point, which was news to me. It was very interesting to look at the pictures and not have any idea how an injury like that happened. A mystery!

Since chemo is on Mondays, the weekends have been the days when I feel the best. My goal this weekend is to be grateful and make the most of these two days without overdoing it. I’ll do a little work, a little cleaning… focus my mind and calm my soul.

This too shall pass.

Family

We finally got back the pictures from our family photoshoot. I’m so happy to have photos of (most of) the family together. We were missing four kids and four grandkids, but it is next to impossible to get everyone together at the same time in the same place.

memories

Triple Negative Breast Cancer (TNBC – more info here) tends to affect younger women more. Looking through Instagram for other people with this disease, I was shocked at the number of women in their 20’s, 30’s and 40’s. Although I’m only 52, I’ve lived a pretty full life already. I’ve been married 28 years, raised all my children. Yes, this sucks but it isn’t something I can’t handle. One thing that comes with age is resilience, knowing that nothing stays the same.

Sometimes you will never know the value of a moment, until it becomes a memory. – Dr. Seuss

Sunday morning, I was going to pick up some breakfast and saw hot air balloons. On a whim, I drove over to watch them. A flood of memories popped up, remembering how I used to take my kids balloon chasing. Balloon rallies in Albuquerque, Mesilla Valley, White Sands. While I waited in line at the drive thru. I opened Facebook and saw my daughter posting pictures of the balloons with her two-year-old. He looked so excited! I literally started crying, sitting alone in my car. No matter what happens to me this year, no matter how hard this treatment is, I know that life goes on. It makes me incredibly happy to see my kids and grandkids living life and experiencing those moments of joy.

So, here are a couple of old balloon pictures… because they make me happy.

Good morning!

1/17/25

Feeling a little lost this morning. I woke up early to take a shower. Usually, I shower at night to avoid wet hair in the morning. That isn’t a problem anymore… The last couple of days have been really bad, but I need to get up and get my butt to work. The bills are a constant worry. I’m still tired and my face is really puffy. My rash feels worse today. At least I’m not as nauseous.

The physical problems are only part of it. I’m feeling very emotional this morning. There is a lot of guilt because of the strain that this is putting on my family. There is so much that needs to be done around the house – things that I usually do myself. My purpose for the last 28+ years has been to make things as easy as possible for them. And now, I feel like a burden. It sucks.