Some days I feel hopeful, maybe even happy. Other days, I can’t see past the darkness, and all I want is my old life back. This blog is me being honest about both — the hard, heavy days I never signed up for, and the quiet, unexpected silver linings that remind me there’s still light, even here.

The Hangover with No Party

I started my first round of chemo on June 6 with a cocktail known to knock people down—Doxorubicin (aka the Red Devil) and Ifosfamide. The infusions were surprisingly tolerable, but the aftermath? It felt like waking up with a hangover… minus the fun night out. Fatigue, weird cravings, and days where coffee didn’t even sound good (which is saying a lot).

This post is all about that first week—the fluid bloat, the meds, the mental fog—and what it’s like to face cancer head-on when you’d rather be watching the Tennessee sunset from your back porch.

But here’s the thing: I made it. Round 1, done.

When I was diagnosed with Angiosarcoma—a rare cancer I had never even heard of—everything changed overnight. The weeks that followed were filled with fear, unknowns, and a lot of Googling I definitely shouldn’t have done.

This blog is the story of how I found my way to MD Anderson. It’s about the moments that gave me hope, the people who helped me get here, and the unexpected words from my doctor that became my new mantra:
“Zen the cancer away.”