Chemo. Round 1. Day 2.
Side effects
Facial rash
A bit of nausea
Fatigue
Countered by
A 4 mile run-walk at the beach
A trip to Trader Joe's
Healthy food choices throughout the day
Visits from family and friends, most importantly, Clara
Chemo. Round 1. March 16, 2026.
"I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living." Psalm 27:13
4:40 am Wake up and start the day. This includes reading Scripture, writing in my journal, and having a cup of coffee.
5:20 am Do an easy workout while watching a 60 Minutes story about one of my favorite podcasters.
6:15 am Take a walk around the neighborhood and listen to the first half of a sermon.
6:45 I check my bags one last time to make sure we have everything, and Rick applies Lidocaine to the port site, per instructions.
7 am. Breakfast
7:20 am We leave for the Zimmer Cancer Center
7:40 am Port access and labs
8:15 am A quick appointment with Dr. Robinson to review labs. All is well.
8:40 Crystal, my awesome capper, arrived and got right to work educating me about what is ahead. Rick took photos and videos of us both.
9:09 am Pre-meds and cold-capping begin
10:32 am Taxol starts. Icing my hands and feet is far harder than icing my head, surprisingly.
1:00 Ethan visits
1:45 Carboplatin starts
2:17 Finished at Novant. Cold caps are changed every 25 minutes, so we change the cap before heading home.
3:00 pm Home, ready to cap for about 4.5 more hours
All in all, a good day, in spite of it all.
4:45 pm update. Clara is here, and the world is even brighter than it was 5 minutes ago.
“I’m confident as seasons change, His faithfulness remains.”
Embracing a new routine. March 13, 2026
Because I am trying to minimize hair loss by utilizing Penguin Cold Caps - The Original Chemo Cold Cap during chemotherapy, today was my last opportunity for the foreseeable future to wash my hair under warm, running water and use styling products and heat to dry it, so I snapped a photo before getting into the shower. What will my hair look like in the weeks ahead?
Because of my experiences in Haiti, I don’t take warm running water for granted. But today was different. I appreciated the warm water running over my head in an entirely different way. Washing my hair was not a task for the morning. It was a luxury to savor.
Ironically, when I went to use the shampoo and conditioner I love so much, both bottles were nearly empty, and I had to shake them down to get enough of each product to adequately clean my hair.
Starting today I am not allowed to use styling products on my hair, but I was told I could add just a bit of nourishment to the ends, so I chose to use this oil that I have loved for many years. (This oil is the reason my hair is always shiny! I am going to miss being able to use it as usual.)
I am allowed to dry my hair with heat one last time today, but I have decided to let it air dry to see how manageable it will be as I adjust to the new normal.
Many things will be completely out of my control in the days ahead, but I’m hopeful that having this one option will give me something on which to focus my time and desire to “do something.”
If I keep my hair, that will be a win. If I don’t, well, that was what was expected anyway.
A day in the life of a chemo patient. March 12, 2026
9:45 am
Today is the day I am scheduled to get my port inserted. We’ll leave for Novant Health Scotts Hill Outpatient Surgery Center in just a few minutes.
The worst part of the morning so far? Fasting. I'm hungry. 😂
Because of the later surgery time, I was able to walk at the beach this morning. For that I am thankful. As an added bonus, I found two shark’s teeth.
I bathed in the antibacterial soap… again. This soap and I have had too many meetings. I am not a fan.
10:25 am
Rick and I are here at Scotts Hill and waiting to be called back for prep.
11:15 am
Still waiting to be called back. Still hungry.
12:30 pm
The procedure is finished, and I wake up fairly easily. I’m hungry, so the nurse gave me a snack.
1:30 pm
I am discharged.
2:30 pm
I arrived home. But before that, because I was so hungry, Rick stopped at PTs and got me my favorite veggie burger. Now to rest up for the remainder of the afternoon. It is rumored Clara might stop by. That would make my day complete.
I’m likely to be a little sore for the next couple of days, but this puts me one step closer to being ready for Monday. Now it’s time to pack my bag for my infusion!
Countdown to Chemo. The last stop. March 2026.
“God loves us, so He makes us the gift of suffering. Through suffering, we release our hold on the toys of this world, and know our true good lies in another world. We’re like blocks of stone, out of which the sculptor carves the forms of men.
The blows of his chisel, which hurt us so much, are what make us perfect. The suffering in this world is not the failure of God’s love for us; it is that love in action.
For believe me, this world that seems to us so substantial is no more than the shadowlands. Real life has not begun yet.”
CS Lewis
When I went to my December 29 post-op appointment with Dr. Rossi, I brought printed out calendars of January, February, and March. I knew I would be starting chemo sometime after the first of the year, but I wanted to push that out as far as possible, so in a red Sharpie I had written down all of the events I had already planned for the first three months of 2026. I really didn’t believe I would be able to do everything on the calendar, but I thought that by stretching the calendar, she and I might be able to meet in the middle.
Instead, because Dr. Rossi understands my desire pursue quality of life, she was open to my finishing all planned events before starting chemotherapy, the last of which was this week - attending the Risk Management Network meeting in Orlando, Florida.
Tonight, if God wills, I will be back home. Tomorrow I will have surgery for the port placement at 10:30 am.
These 4 days with the RMN have been full of learning and laughs, and I am so thankful I was able to come. My friends even surprised me with a birthday cake, which was very special.
I also had the opportunity to give the opening devotion this morning, and I shared how there is joy in suffering if we fix our eyes on Jesus.
How thankful I am for these last two and a half months of travel that have allowed me to prepare my heart and mind for the days ahead. My first chemo infusion will start at approximately 9 am on Monday. I value your prayers as the day will likely be a long, emotional one.
“Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles of any kind come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy. ”
Countdown to Chemo. Stop #7
POV: Run a half marathon with a critical care nurse. That person will get you to the finish line. 5/5 recommend that medical professional be your own son.
POV: Run a half marathon with a critical care nurse. That person will get you to the finish line. 5/5 recommend that medical professional be your own son.
The Myrtle Beach Half Marathon 2026 is in the books, and it was a great time.
The next stop on my Countdown to Chemo is tomorrow, and I can hardly wait.
Countdown to Chemo. Stop #6.
Concilium is the family I didn’t know I needed.
It has been my great joy to be part of the Concilium team for the last three years. Though we do trainings at a number of locations, my favorite place to train is in Sunset, TX, at a camp called Charis Hills.
It was here at Charis Hills in March of 2023 that I decided that I would move my care from Novant to Duke and that I would launch fearisnotmyfuture.com with this first post: The first text - March 2 — Fear is Not My Future. During those two weeks in 2023, I got a different perspective on my diagnosis, and I became determined to find joy on the journey.
Sometimes you find friendship in the most unlikely places, and some people become the family you never knew you were missing. That’s how I feel about my team at Concilium.
As I was planning my Countdown to Chemo, I believed this was a stop that would be good for my soul. I was not wrong.
We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation. And this hope will not lead to disappointment. Romans 5:3-4
I’m headed home today, fully conscious of the fact that in just a few days the Countdown to Chemo will be over, and I’ll actually be starting down a road I never believed I would choose.
There are tears, so many tears, as I think about the days ahead, but the memories of this week are tucked in my heart to bring a smile to my face when needed.
Countdown to Chemo. The Novant Half.
“If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.”
African Proverb
I would not have made it to the finish line today without some of my favorite people.
I’m sitting here on my flight to my next Countdown to Chemo stop with tears in my eyes because I have been blessed by knowing some of the best people in the world.
I saw some of my favorites out on the course, and their hugs were the best encouragement. I even saw the PA from my oncology practice and friends from Wrightsville Beach! Thank you to all of those spectators who accepted my sweaty hugs!
Special shoutout to Rick for rolling with it all this weekend and chauffeuring us to the start and finish.
“Goodness of God” just came up on my playlist. How appropriate.
“With every breath that I am able, I will sing of the goodness of God.”
I’m not looking forward to the days ahead, but I know without a doubt that I will have the best support system. How thankful I am for relationships which breathe life into my very being.
