How do you want your eggs- Fried or fertilized?

I met my oncologist today, and once again I really lucked out. I had this fear of a doctor with no sense of humor. And that is not him. We all really liked him and I'm thankful for that. I found out that chemo will start on the 29th and then it will be over 18 weeks after that! It will be intense as I will be getting 4 different drugs, including a new drug showing great results. It was nice just to have the conversation and get it all out on the table. I was still hoping there was a chance I would get some different cocktail of drugs that would allow me to keep my hair but that just isn't going to happen. I'll likely lose it after my first treatment. But I've heard from a few different people about these ice hats- or just wearing plain ice packs on your head during chemo prevents hair loss. And honestly, I felt like an idiot asking my oncologist about them. But he said he had a patient in Atlanta that wore an ice hat and she kept about 80% of her hair. If you know me, you know I can spare 20% of my hair. He said it is worth a shot and I would be only his second patient ever to try this. But I'm torn. Do I go all in on this ice hat idea in hopes that it works? But then if it doesn't, I feel like I won't be prepared. Or do I embrace these changes, shave this shit, and go get a wig and some hats? Wigs aren't cheap. I can't just go buy one "just in case". But being prepared is literally the only feeling of control I have these days. These days where my body belongs to the doctors. So do I gamble all my chips or just get a jump on it? I have no idea yet and only 2 weeks to decide. And how do I even have time to think about hair when I have to figure out this whole egg-freezing process? It's so time-sensitive but it's also so stressful to find a doctor and figure out the financial side of it. Just so many things I never planned on having to figure out. And my brother, the sweet man that he is, set up a youcaring.com site for me that was making it's way around Facebook before I even knew. I just started receiving texts from people I haven't spoken to in years, and knew something was up. But since I don't have a Facebook account, it took some calls to figure it out. There is no way to describe the feeling being on that site and seeing all the people, some I don't even know, donating so that one day I can have a family. Thank you from the bottom of my heart to everyone that has participated. If I had known that I would ever run into this problem some day, and that it would be so disgustingly expensive, I would've been a lot less careful with birth control! I even asked my brother if he could retrieve them and store them in his kitchen freezer. It's so grossly inappropriate but just my favorite kind of text to sent to him. But it's just unbelievable the support we've received. My sweet friend, Molly, is also donating a portion of the sales from her adorable Etsy shop Jumping and Jelly Bean to the fund. We could never afford to 'harvest the garden' without this help. And even beyond the financial side, I'm receiving so much help to save my sanity when I get overwhelmed. I'm so thankful that my mother is retired, has a roomba vacuum, and can do research and make calls for me. She's contacted organizations for support and resources and called doctors. Same with my amazing BFFF. We went out to dinner the other night and as we're talking she's emailing this fertility doctor while I'm sitting there eating a turkey club. Then he calls her at 7:45 as we're leaving, she tells him my story and he offers his help and contacts. Just the fact that they take the time to do research and make these calls on my behalf when I honestly don't have the energy to. I'm so thankful for the help. Now I have to get myself ready for my next surgery on Friday. They didn't get good margins from the first surgery so we'll try again!

Got my gimp-ass out of the house this weekend for Sam's birthday!

Language set to English:Vicodin

I've put all this pressure on myself to have a "funny" blog. To share the positive spin on things. But as my father reminded me tonight, I just need to share where I'm at. I certainly try to be strong and try to be positive, but the honest truth is, that just wouldn't be my truth. Some days just plain suck. And I've only just started this climb. The lumpectomy was a walk in the park compared to the hell I know I'm facing over the next few months. And I'm scared shitless. The only difference is, some days it gets to me, and some days it doesn't. The one thing that doesn't change is that I know I can't do it without this incredible support system that has assembled itself around me. I wonder how people do it without a supportive posse. Many nurses and doctors were talking about the crew that was gathered in the waiting room during my surgery. And it's these little amazing moments that get me through. Like my first post-op shower, my mother just sitting on the floor outside the bathroom door incase I needed anything. I get it, I'm 29 years old. But I still appreciate that. And honestly, I needed that. And the constant flow of pumpkin spice chai's making their way over in the hands of my best friend. Somehow, life is just always better with your B(fucking)FF sitting on the couch next to you. And the overwhelming amount of support from calls and texts, to flowers and care-packages. People have told me that they didn't know what to do for me or what to say. Some even "googled" in search of answers (which is just the cutest damn thing I've ever heard). And I certainly didn't know the answers. Hell, we were going through this together. It was all new to me too. What can you do for someone with cancer? We were all learning at the same time. But now I know. It's the little reminders just to let them know they're not alone, we're in this fight together. That's all I need. Because it's true. And I didn't really understand this until I was in it. Because this cancer doesn't just effect me. I've seen it on my co-workers faces. I've seen the tears fall down my best friend's face. And the look on my mothers face the other day when she asked me if I was saving a gifted blanket for chemo. Almost like the word "chemo" itself punched her in the stomach. One thing I'm sure she never planned on saying to her daughter. But it's in these moments that I am reminded that I have this amazing team behind me. And my team is going to win.