Before being cleared to start chemotherapy, I needed to have a few tests and procedures to make sure that my body was healthy enough and ready for chemotherapy. I had an echocardiogram to test my heart, blood tests to test my levels and a mediport placed in my upper chest area.

The day before starting chemo I had a minor surgery to have the mediport placed. Over the course of my treatment, I will have countless injections, blood tests and infusions. Having a mediport will eliminate the stress on my veins (which have already taken a beating). The mediport is how my blood will be taken, how chemo will go into my bloodstream and eliminates the need to have an I.V. every time. This surgery was really no big deal, but the pain from recovery was more than I expected.

My upper chest/neck area, where the mediport was placed, was super tender. I could barely turn my neck or lift my arm above my head. I had trouble lifting my head without putting too much stress on my neck. It was much more challenging than I was prepared for. This was the first little taste of what it is going to feel like to ask for help – especially with the boys.

As I get ready for 16 chemotherapy treatments over the next 20ish weeks, I keep thinking about how I can keep things as normal as possible for Aidan and Cooper. I am so grateful for the amount of support that we have from friends and family but it is going to be so hard for me to take a step back and relinquish some control. Matt keeps reassuring me that I need to take this time to take care of myself so that I can be there to take care of the boys for years to come. Easier said than done.

I know that I can expect to have all of side effects of chemotherapy to some degree – nausea, fatigue, body aches, changes in taste. Of all of the symptoms that will cause actual physical discomfort, the one that I just can’t wrap my head around is aesthetic and emotional – losing my hair. For me, this will be the most challenging and traumatic. With the type of chemotherapy that I am being treated with, it is a guarantee that 10-20 days after my first treatment, all of my hair will fall out. Since finding out the date of my first treatment I have been obsessing over how to handle this. When is it going to start? Should I cut it short before? Shave it? What about Passover photos? Should I cut it right after? What am I going to look like without any hair? Will my wig look obvious? Will people stare? Will I still feel pretty? I can get used to feeling sick on the inside but looking sick from the outside is a much tougher pill to swallow.  I also feel guilty for caring about something so superficial. I should feel grateful that there is a treatment for my cancer and just accept the side effects that come along with it. Why am I putting so much importance on my hair? Yes – I have always loved my hair. I love the compliments that I get from hair stylists – your hair is so thick, so long, so healthy, so shiny. Could I be putting too much importance on this? Maybe? I hope so.

When I told Matt that I have cancer his immediate response was super positive, “We can handle this. You’ll fight it and everything will be fine.” My first thought was, “I don’t want to fight anything. I just want to take a nap and be left alone.” As we continued to share the news with family and friends, everyone’s positive messages always included sentiments like “you’re gonna beat this”, “you’re so strong”, “you’re a fighter”, “you’re gonna kick cancer’s ass”. I was surprised at how many times the “fighter” analogy came up in our conversations.

During these conversations, our friends started using the hashtag “shaystrong” so it seemed like a good way to label this whole journey. But, over dinner with friends, we discussed this hashtag and decided that it doesn’t really fit my attitude. I’m more like a #shaysdoingjustfine, #shaysgonnabeokay or #shayjustwantstobeleftalone but those don’t really convey the positive cancer-fighting message, do they?

Of course I’m committed to beating my cancer but I am not going to change my whole persona, become a cancer-fighting superhero, and start wearing pink. Everyone knows I only wear black, white, and grey. Still just me – though #shaystrong does have a nice ring to it.