A person with long brown hair and blue glasses smiles at the camera while wearing a denim shirt against a dark background.

 

WELCOME TO "erica's struggle bus"

 

Hi friends! Many of you have already heard about my terrible, horrible, no good, very bad start of 2026. But I'd like to keep you all in the loop about what's going on. 
 I promise there is snark.

Blog 2: March Mayhem - "You want me to do what?"

Blog 3: April: Chemo and Reality

Blog 4: May: Bald is Beautiful

Blog 5: June: The Halfway Point

In July: a vacation, a new round, new side-effects & hopeful studies

VACATION

We spent the week off between round one and round two of chemo as a mini-vacation in the Northern Neck of Virginia on the shore of the Potomac. We rented an Airbnb just outside of the town of Montross, a cute little town that had mostly the essentials, but with character. Downtown had a coffee shop/brunch spot, a brewery, a liquor store, and a few crafty boutiques. About a mile down the road was the ever essential Dollar General and a grocery store.


The neighborhood we stayed in had its own private access to the river with tiny little beaches, where we got some great photos. But man was it HOT! I like warm weather, but it was so humid and so hot I felt like we were in Florida without a pool to cool off in.


My brother-in-law came down with us for a day and we went to a really beautiful state park with a beach called Fossil Beach … of course I wanted to go! We thought it was going to be a “short walk" to this beach. It was a hike — honestly, I think we were all impressed that I didn't need to stop to rest much, since I haven’t had energy to do much walking (let alone hiking) these past few months. The park also had a cute little butterfly garden, a few viewing areas of the river, and many other trails that we were not able to explore.


The smoke most certainly didn't help any of us once that rolled in. And the house's air conditioning was stuck on full blast. We would step outside to get warm, start sweating after 10 minutes, go back inside to the icebox, and then repeat the cycle.


But breakfast out on the screen porch was really nice, late-night talks made us remember what normal life felt like and we went to a restaurant for the first time in months. This B&B an hour away had a micro-winery that served a small lunch menu and it was the perfect chill atmosphere. It was set up outside in a tent like we were living in the COVID era once again. It was perfect!

Man in bandana and tank top clapping hands near refrigerator in kitchen, black and white photo.
Man holding camera on sandy beach near wooden pier on calm water on overcast day.
Black and white photo of two people in a kitchen, one cooking at the stove while the other laughs nearby.
Two people sitting on a bench at dusk, silhouetted trees against a vibrant orange sunset sky near a sandy path.
Vibrant orange marigold flower blooming against a dark, lush green foliage background in a garden setting.
Fishermen stand on a weathered wooden pier over calm water at dusk, with rocky shoreline in the foreground.
A spotted white-tailed fawn stands alert in a lush green meadow, showcasing its delicate brown coat and white spots.
A zebra swallowtail butterfly perched on purple buddleia flowers in a sunlit garden.
Scenic lakeside view with driftwood logs on sandy shore beside white chalk cliffs topped with lush green trees.
Three friends smiling for a selfie on a sandy beach with rocky cliffs and calm water in the background.
A blue-tailed skink lizard with striped body resting on a weathered wooden log in natural habitat.
Tall dry marsh reeds sway beside green shrubs with dark forest trees in the background.
An osprey soaring in flight against a clear blue sky, showcasing its brown and white plumage and outstretched wings.
Man driving a golf cart at sunset with warm golden sunlight streaming through the trees.
Black and white portrait of a bearded man wearing a cap, captured in a moody side profile with soft bokeh background.
Iced coffee drink in a clear plastic cup with lid on an outdoor table with blurred food in background.
A fried chicken biscuit sandwich with crispy potatoes on a white plate, beside an iced latte at a casual breakfast restaurant.
Woman in red dress standing on green lawn in front of blue house with swing set.
A smiling couple takes a selfie outdoors, woman wearing colorful headscarf and glasses, man in maroon cap and green sunglasses.
Two smiling people wearing sunglasses and hats take a selfie outdoors near tall green reeds.
Rustic wooden directional signs pointing to pond and beach, with a please respect private property notice.
Sea oats grass sways in the breeze on a sandy beach with a wooden pier and calm ocean in the background.
Woman in striped dress and red headband dancing joyfully on a sandy path with arms raised outdoors.

The 2nd first Day

The first day of the new round went just like any other. Bloodwork, doctor appointment and then infusion. But this time I didn't know what to expect with a new drug regimen. I was a little bummed that this round I wasn't going to get Benadryl, mostly because it made me sleepy. But I guess it's just the chair now that I associate with sleep, I got my nap anyway. Apparently I can sleep anywhere!


The interesting part about this drug schedule is one of the drugs has to be plunged into the IV, rather than the normal gravity drip into the lines. Which means a nurse has to sit there and at certain increments push the drug into the IV. Did I mention that this one is red? It goes in red and the doctors warn you from the very beginning that it also comes out red. What they don't tell you is this happens almost immediately.


When I got home from this infusion, within an hour the tiredness hit me and I had no choice but to lay down and rest. For the next few days, the only real side effects were exhaustion and an annoying little bit of nausea that hangs just under the surface. It's there just enough that the foods for each meal were carefully chosen, but nothing out of control. Just uncomfortable, and slightly annoying. When it came to eating, I found that proteins really helped, so I stuck with a pretty bland diet, with mixed nuts, pretzels and fruit.  I do think that weird taste I was having was what’s often described as a "metallic taste.” And so I switched to plastic utensils and plastic water bottles, which means I’m missing my fancy light-up metal water tumbler that logs my hydration on an app.


To be honest I'm tired and I'm tired of doing this. I'm nervous about the next infusion and the other two that follow. I'm not sure what to expect. Will the nausea and tiredness compound each week? Will it take longer and longer for me to feel like myself? Or will it just be gradual? Will there be other side effects that pop up that I'm not expecting? I think I'm nervous as I get to the end of chemotherapy that something will keep me from finishing it — the chemo is hard, but it has kept me in the mindset that this is killing the cancer.


The closer I get to the end of chemo, the more real it is that I get to move on to the next steps: surgery and radiation. Somewhere in between my immune system will come back, and I’ll be able to live a more normal life. But like COVID, when you have been shut up for this many months it's exciting and nerve-racking.


This social butterfly feels like she is in a cocoon. When the time comes to rejoin society, I just have to remember to be cautious since I'll still be immunocompromised for a while.  

Woman in headscarf and glasses resting in hospital bed, wrapped in blanket, looking calm and resilient.
Person cuddling with a golden Labrador dog indoors, sharing a tender moment on a couch.
A sad-looking beagle rests its head on a brown leather sofa cushion indoors.
Person resting on a couch wearing glasses and a smartwatch with a Dominos logo, shirt pulled over their head.

FEVER

It took me until Thursday and Friday after infusion to start really feeling better (infusions are Monday). So, into that weekend it was a nice relief to start feeling myself again. Until I spiked a fever.


Fevers while you are going through chemotherapy are VERY annoying. You see, once your temperature hits 100.4 it’s considered a Very Big Deal — and you immediately need to haul ass to the Emergency Room. Even so, in my experience, a low-grade fever often makes you feel like garbage. Sometimes it's really just your body overreacting to the drugs, but it requires a lot of monitoring and often calls to your medical team, just to be safe.


But if you know me ... I'm not normal. So, when I spiked a fever on Tuesday the week after treatment, I thought “here we go.”


I woke up at 2 a.m. with joint pain and feeling achy — this is not out of the ordinary, but for some reason I had the forethought to take my temperature. Very low-grade fever and elevated heart rate.  I took some meds, and went back to sleep.


Over the next day, the fever would slowly keep climbing as the meds would wear off. Soon even the meds weren’t helping. I could see where this was going, so I called the nurse line, and we agreed that I should stop taking meds to see where this number would spike to.


Surprise, surprise, at 10 p.m. my temperature hit the magical 100.4 and I'll be honest, by that point I felt so crappy I was ready to get moving. But the ER is always a sleepless night and a lot of times doesn't give answers. This was no exception. Just like my last trip to the ER, I got a round of bloodwork, tests and fluids, along with an antibiotic. Six hours later, we basically came to the conclusion that if this is a virus, my white blood count was reassuring (thank goodness) and that it's most likely my body overreacting.


The wild card is my immunotherapy drug. It helps your body to identify and attack cancer cells, but it can do all sorts of unexpected, wonky things to your immune system. It is handy to have a hypothetical scapegoat for any mysterious and minor symptoms.

Person wearing sunglasses and camo hat driving a car through a tree-lined road during daytime.
A golden Labrador wearing a harness runs playfully on green grass in a fenced backyard under a partly cloudy sky.
An elderly Beagle dog standing on hardwood floors inside a home near a sliding glass door and curtains.
Person holding a colorful board game card over a dark table with game pieces, cards, and a green pen.

studies & hope

One of the most interesting things that happened this month was that Joel was doom-scrolling (as we all do) and came across a breast cancer study. Once the algorithm knows you have cancer, you and everyone around you gets served ALL sorts of information, whether you want it or not.


This study included thousands of women with breast cancers similar to mine and found a fascinating link between one type of anti-nausea medicine and a significantly reduced chance of recurrence. (The charts are dramatic!)


We immediately checked my treatment plan — and were thrilled to find that I’ve been receiving the anti-nausea drug they were studying!


I was fascinated by this. How could a nausea drug possibly keep cancer from recurring and maybe save lots of lives? One theory is that the way this drug blocks nausea also disrupts cancer cells. There is still a lot more research to be done, and the connection hasn’t been proven. But I think this is definitely a win and a step in the right direction. Here is a link to an article if you would like to read more than my over-simplified explanation.


This was such an exciting find! It gives so much hope to all of the people who go through this! To know that all of the research is actually helping and that scientists are studying all sorts of medications and drugs — even the ones that you think have nothing to do with cancer. They all may have other purposes, they all may be helping save your life!  

 

july call out

Shout out to my brother-in-law for being on call from an hour away to come watch the dogs. And for driving basically 3 hours to spend 1.5 days with us on vacation! The hike was no joke!