Author: jessicafilloon

WARNING *** Do Not Read If You Don’t Want to Visit the Land of the Boobless 

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Trying so hard to channel THIS

I’ve been putting this post off until I felt happy that radiation was over. I have yet to feel it, so here we go.

Wednesday was my 25th radiation treatment. AKA I’m done. AKA I am a walking piece of beef jerky. My arm pit is one large open wound and it’s slowly opening down my chest. The overall radiated area is the reddest thing I have have seen on a human and when I remove the bandages and clean the area, layers of skin slough off. Nurses word choice, not mine. It itches like a mo’fo’ but I fear if I scratch it, all of my skin will come off. That is a 100% serious comment. No funny business when it comes to losing skin. Just boobs, I guess.

At times, it feels like someone is inserting a handful of needles into my body and giving them a good wiggle. The pain never goes away. At night I wake up itching and then causing myself more pain. Each day, I slather on some cream prescribed by the doctor and bandage myself right up. At first, the cream gave me relief but not anymore. Apparently it’s just a thing I’m going to have to ride out because I have yet to see any healing or relief from the pain. Because if you have recommended something to help, I have tried it.

Far left: last day of rads. Progression to today 🔥

My fried pit is bringing back my T-Rex arm. Which gives me terrible neck pain and is NOT helping my shoulder situation. I look forward to the day when I don’t have to tell my kids “watch out, remember mama has owies”. Then I can move on to dealing with the royally fucked up mental issues I am left with. So yes, I am done with radiation.

It’s been so long since my last post that I feel like I have lots of updates. I’ll just give some highlights. A new yoga teacher took over my Wednesday morning healing class. I had an immediate good feeling about her. We got to talking after class and it turns out she is a 12 year survivor, diagnosed right after delivering her third child. 12 YEARS!!! I love those stories. So much better than when someone says “Oh, I knew so and so, they had C and they died.” Don’t say that. Just don’t.
Recently I had a massage with an amazing massage therapist here in Orange County who gives free oncology massages. She has a pay it forward program where tips allow her to do these massages for free. When I saw her, I had a flash back of the last time I had an appointment and I realized how far I have come. I remember feeling damaged, unsure- it was shortly after my double mastectomy. Even if I don’t realize it, I really have come a long way in a couple of months.  And funny thing- I have never felt more confident in my appearance. Ever.
My chiropractor has saved my ass (and neck and back and shoulder…) these last few weeks since I have been frequenting her office. She doesn’t only crack me and send me out the door, she’s like a therapist and friend. Looking back, she has helped me trough some really hard shit in the last few years and is definitely helping me get through this rough period. She’s one of the OG Rad Lady Posse members.

I took a macrame workshop a couple of weeks ago and it was a really fun way to ‘check out’ for a bit. I enjoyed it so much, reminded me of college- really putting my textile design degree to use. 😜 But I also loved the way I felt energized and happy afterwards. Like a power meditation or something. I bought some supplies to make some things on my own, you know, in all my free time.

My macrame masterpiece 🌱

The rawness of my chest and pit have not allowed me to go to yoga lately so it’s safe to say I’ve been a raging bitch. Word on the street is that I’ve been a bit ‘on edge’. The word’s not wrong. I know it’s true. (Re-reading this line makes me think of that song: Girl, you know it’s true Ooh Ooh Ooh I love you -Milli Vanilli) I’ve been an impatient, mean mama and wife lately. Which then makes me stress because I ‘should’ be loving life, just being thankful that I am alive. I am thankful but things still suck sometimes. And when I stress, I get the urge to purge. Like throwing everything out will give me clarity or something. Still looking for that clarity…..

I’m finding it hard to find the humor in this part of it all. Hopefully my next post will be more uplifting.
“It’s a terrible story, although surprisingly upbeat.” -Name that movie 🎥
Oh and I’m going to leave this right here-


This Girl is on Fire… 

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Cue Alicia Keys. Admit it, you just sang that in your head. Or maybe you’re more into this one: “It’s getting hot in herre…. ” but I won’t be taking off my clothes Mr. Nelly. I’d scare the children. Or maybe you prefer something a bit more old school: “And it burns, burns, burns, that ring of fire.” That’s right, Mr. Cash. Whichever your song choice, this shit burns. And itches reeeeaaaal bad. 

Last week, the radiation fatigue was intense but I’m feeling a bit more energized this week. You can now see the “exit dose” of radiation on my back. I noticed it because I started to feel itchy and asked the tech about it. Chuck told me that the radiation doesn’t stop once it hits your body, that shit powers on through. Literally. Thankfully I only have 4 more treatments left! 

Even better, there’s actually an end in sight when I look at all of my future appointments on my Kaiser app. Not to get too ahead of myself but it’s nice to know I won’t be heading to Kaiser every damn day. I love the peeps, I really do. But mama is ready to mellow out a bit. My last radiation treatment is on July 5th and my last physical therapy appointment is July 12th for my shoulder. Woot woot! 

For about the last week I’ve been dealing with some numbness and light tingling in my legs. My oncologist’s office seems to believe that it’s from the chemo and I will continue to have it on and off. Cooool. 

Also, Ive been in talks with my gynecologist about having my hysterectomy and ovary removal at the end of August but need to talk with my oncologist in regards to the timing of the oral chemo. I agree that I want it done sooner than later but I also feel like at some point, I think my body needs a break to get back on (some sort of) track. So maybe that means my hysterectomy can be pushed back since they already took out my fallopian tubes during the C section. We shall see. 

Fun fact: It’s easier to live in the present when you can’t remember the past. Frickin chemo brain. 

OH! And this ‘preemie’ baby of ours, is officially over the 50th percentile for weight and height! Chunk monster 💙

More Chemo, It’s All Cool 

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Last Thursday marked the half way point of my rads. They did a few X-rays to make sure there’s no swelling and that the tattoos still line up correctly. And then on to the zap zap. 

Today was my 14th radiation treatment and it is definitely getting roasty toasty at the rad site. I’m applying calendula lotion a few times a day and a thicker balm at nighttime. It’s not really painful unless Harlon tries to wrestle me. Soooo it’s often painful. 

Remember how I said they play music in the radiation room? Well today they were playing some awful smooth jazz/ love song mix. Not my fav and then on came Chicago. I hate Chicago. I don’t hate many things but that band makes my body want to find remnants of my lunch from last Tuesday and vomit it right up. Thankfully they changed it (to some smooth Kenny G) but not without giving me some shit. I was taking to Chuck, one of the techs, about how toasty my radiated area is getting. He said “Well you know what really helps? Putting a little Chicago on it.” 
I’ll burn. 

After radiation, I literally ran across the parking lot to my oncology appointment to make it on time. Man, I was winded. But I’m pretty sure that the non-boob deal shaved off 1-2 minutes, so that’s cool. Bonus- no obnoxious boob bounce to control as I sprinted. 

It’s always nice to see my oncologist. She reassures me each time that things are looking great. Today we discussed starting an oral chemotherapy drug called Xeloda since there were residual tumor cells left from my previous chemo found during surgery. I would begin sometime after radiation. The side effects are minimal compared to the Taxol/Carboplatin and AC. This one may include fatigue, GI issues, hand and foot rash, and mouth sores. I can deal, I have been through worse. I left her office feeling optimistic. 

When I was pregnant with Wyatt, I was crazy sick. I mean, I was super sick with Harlon too. Vomiting all day long, super dehydrated and all that jazz. But with H, it went away around the 4 month mark and I was on my way of eating each Orange County In’N’Out out of all their double doubles. Fun fact- before being pregnant with H, I didn’t eat meat for several years. 

With Wyatt, it never stopped. I would puke wherever, whenever. It interfered with my job, my family, it was rough. At the same time, I realized that I was insanely depressed. Like scary depressed. Luckily I had the most amazing midwife and she helped me through it. I was prescribed Zoloft and that was the best thing that could have happened. My only wish is that I would have started it sooner. It didn’t help with the nausea but it helped with the panic that came along with the sudden urge to vomit in random places. Like the McDonalds parking lot. 

Looking back, with what I know now and talking with a therapist for several months, I definitely had post partum depression after H. I didn’t know it then. No one really talks openly about the yucky parts of parenting. Yes, poop and lack of sleep are common taking points but not so much about how mom is doing. Other than the occasional question of “did you tear?” Ouch. Everyone just seems so happy- life is unicorns and rainbows and baby giggles. I rode zero unicorns, saw no rainbows, and baby screaming replaced giggles for a good amount of time. I just thought I wasn’t a good mother and couldn’t hang. After H turned one, I began to mellow out and then BOOM baby Filloon round 2 was upon us. 

I had never felt physically worse in my life. I’d see men out in public and rage would fill me. Envy. I’d find myself grumbling while driving past them. A curse word here and there. They would never have to feel this awful because they would never be pregnant. Jerks. 
Sometimes I feel a similar anger in regards to C. But it’s a little different now. Like last week, I saw a guy, super happy on the phone. My first thought was “what the hell is he so happy about?” I had to physically shake my head and stop myself. What the hell was wrong with me? I would never wish this on anyone. Let him be happy! And what the heck do I know about his personal life? NOTHING! He might have his own mountain lion. But I hear misery loves company. I’m definitely not miserable but I was having a moment.  Thankfully I snapped out of it. 

The last part of the blog sort of went on a tangent. But the point is to let you all know that you see me in pictures and in person with a huge smile on my face majority of the time. (I smile when I’m nervous, scared, uncomfortable, happy, relaxed… I guess it’s the opposite of resting bitch face) but sometimes things are really hard. I’m not brave. At least that’s not how I’d ever describe myself. But if I have this sort of platform, I figure I can share whatever I want in hopes that it may resonate and help someone else.