Of course cancer is never what you expect it to be. You feel like you’re thrown into a situation with a loan shark where you are bargaining for body parts.

Please let me keep my hair, a little bit of estrogen, my boobs, damn what about my nips.

Yes, you’re grateful to be alive to have treatments that make you better even as they make you sick.

But, I have to draw a line. I’d like to keep my nips. I realize that I’m lucky to be able to have that option. It’s not as easy as you would think to find a surgeon willing to do a nipple sparing mastectomy. And, when you find one there are no guarantees that it will work out.

There’s so much sacrifice in dealing with cancer including the ignorant bliss that is my precancerous life. Having breast cancer already feels like reverse puberty, you lose your boobs, estrogen, and oftentimes fertility. It seems like such a small thing to want to keep your nips.

They won’t function as before and would be purely cosmetic. But they’re such small reminders of what life was like before having poisonous boobs.

Besides, if I get to keep them maybe once this is all over I’ll throw some pasties on them in celebration, even if I can’t feel a thing. At least they’re mine.

I’m lucky in that I have a lot of friends and family who are supportive and willing to come along to these appointments.  If those rooms weren’t so small, we’d be having a pachanga.

Instead every 3 weeks since December, the chemo team of me, Josh, and Vanessa assembles and makes our way to MGH. It is nerve-wracking knowing that essentially you’re being pumped up with a bunch of really nasty stuff that’s supposed to kill the cancer and cure you. But once you’ve checked in, it’s actually a rather mundane process.

The whole process of getting chemo is like a regular doctor’s appointment, a really long doctor’s appointment. It all starts with getting my blood drawn. After waiting for a little while, you see the doctor or nurse practitioner and talk about how things are going.

You get to go over what lovely side effects you’re having, they check your blood work and look to see if the tumor(s) are responding.

As innocuous as getting chemo can seem, the part that gets you is afterwards. I have to say the first two rounds of chemo were friggin awful. I felt like one of those mutant clone creations gone wrong begging someone to end it. It doesn’t help that the shot which is supposed to boost your immune system also gives you flu-like symptoms. Wow, cancer treatment is a ball. Right?

For those of you who are curious, I can summarize the side effects of chemo treatment as being ridiculously tired but sleeping doesn’t do shit. The first week, I find that I get winded and light-headed from getting up to go to the bathroom. The second week I start feeling like my old self but still tire very easily. It’s very odd to feel like you’ve worked out but you’ve only walked 5 minutes from the parking lot to work.

Among the many things that suck, the two things that I find hard to get used to is not having an appetite and food tasting weird or bad. We’re so ruled by our primal need to eat that suddenly the hours seem even longer when you’re not thinking about food. It also throws off the day when you’re not hungry for breakfast, lunch or dinner.

Your memory of food can also really mess with your head. You’ll think you want something that it’ll be the one thing that tastes great. Of course, when you start to eat it, your memory and what you’re tasting couldn’t be further apart. It’s also difficult to force yourself to eat especially since eating food shouldn’t be a chore.

Honestly, I wish I had prepared for chemo like someone prepping for a food-eating contest. I would’ve housed all the italian cold subs, sushi and soft cheeses I can’t eat now. Ah, mortadella, salami, hots and provolone. How I miss thee?

Not to mention mustard, another food I haven’t been eating thanks to mouth sensitivities. All the stuff you take for granted when all of a sudden you have the palate of a 4-month-old.

Let’s see what else has been a great surprise. Oh, that’s right, the chemical menopause. Amazing how this illness attacks all the things you went through puberty for. The menopause gives me hot flashes but thankfully not as bad as I’ve heard other women go through. I don’t break out into a crazy sweat or try to douse my insides with liquid nitrogen. I also haven’t grown any facial hair…yet.

I’ve lost most of my hair. I’d say I have about 10 percent left. If you’re trying to picture what that is, imagine the Crypt Keeper wispy hair with a Rachel Maddow haircut. You can see a whole lot of scalp. Josh says I have nicely-shaped head. So, let’s put that in the win column.

Lately, another crappy side effect are my nails hurting. Yup, your nails can actually hurt and feel sore. It feels like the after effects of having a heavy book slammed on your fingertips. Yeah, it sucks. I know. It also makes every day tasks interesting but I guess I’m always up for a challenge.

As much as I’m bitching and moaning, I’m glad that I’m on the rebound from treatment number 5. I have one left to go and as much as I’d like to celebrate that, it brings me closer to major surgery. A part that I still haven’t been able to psych myself up for.

Oh well, take it one day at a time, right. And for right now, I am looking forward to ending chemo. It’s my path back to a healthy me.