Rosanna's Metastatic Breast Cancer Journey

May 28... Round 2, here I come!  I was feeling much better going into this round and was hopeful that was a sign that the chemo did its job for Round 1.  I was pleasantly surprised during vitals to find that I had not lost any more weight (yay for stability!) and my pulse was down from over 100 beats per minute to 84!  I was getting tired of everyone asking if I was okay since my pulse was so high... No, I wasn't okay.  Why would they ask that?! My appointment with Dr. Sinclair before chemo was very encouraging and brought me a lot of hope. She was very impressed with my reaction to the first dose of chemo.  With inflammatory breast cancer, you develop a rash, swelling, and hardness in the breast.  The rash is receding, the swelling has gone down, and the breast is not as hard as it was two weeks ago.  I also have a lot less bone pain and I feel like my lymph nodes are not as swollen.  The fevers have also disappeared.  I have had so many symptoms go away or lessen.  It kind of m

I had my first chemo treatment on Monday, May 13.  Jason had hardly left my side since my diagnosis and came down with a cold and the stomach flu the night before my first treatment.  This was a mixed blessing.  Jason was running himself ragged and it was good for him to have to rely on others to help us. Thankfully my parents were both able to take me to my first chemo treatment. My mom stayed with me throughout the first treatment and my dad came in periodically to check on me.  Dads are fixers and my dad is still grappling with the fact that he can't fix this for me. I didn't have any idea what to expect for this first treatment.  I was in a lot of pain going to that first treatment and was worried about feeling even worse post-treatment.  Instead, a miracle happened.  Partway through the treatment a lot of my pain eased and I actually walked out of treatment feeling better than I did walking in the door.  At this point there is no way to know if that is because the trea

One month ago, I received my breast cancer diagnosis.  It was the last thing I expected to hear after becoming mysteriously ill for several months prior to the diagnosis.  I knew something was really wrong, but breast cancer was the furthest thing from my mind.  I'm 34 years old.  34 year olds don't get breast cancer.  At least that's what I naively thought prior to this day. Upon receiving the diagnosis, my husband and I went to my parent's house to deliver the news in person.  Telling my parents that I have breast cancer was the hardest thing I've ever had to do.  Saying it out loud was not something that I was ready for, but I needed their support from the moment of diagnosis and so it had to be told.  My mom couldn't understand what I was saying as she held me while I sobbed uncontrollably.  As she rubbed my back, I finally calmed down long enough to say, "I have at least Stage 3 breast cancer and the doctor thinks it's probably stage 4 but more t