I tried kombucha during chemo for the first time this weekend.

What is kombucha? Kombucha is fermented tea and sugar. It’s bubbly with a little bit of alcohol. Though you can also find hard kombucha, that’s not what I was after.

I’d just like to say that the “do not shake” warning on the kombucha bottle needs to be featured more prominently than the hippie vibes. The stuff settled on the bottom of the glass bottle just screams “shake me!”

Sunday was my first time trying the stuff. I needed probiotic replacement and adventure, so I looked up if it was safe for cancer patients. 

The alcohol content is pretty low (like .5% or something) and the cancer center was non-committal, only saying that its sourness might upset chemo tummies.

But the grocery store had a ginger variety. Because ginger is good for nausea, I bought some. For science.

My experience: It wasn’t terrible, but it also wasn’t good. Probably won’t buy it again. It helped with my stomatitis, which I wasn’t expecting, but so does yogurt. And yogurt tastes better.

(By the way, I’m trying a new chemo regimen where I do 5 days on temozolomide, 2 days off. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. I tried the kombucha on one of the off days. For anyone else on chemo who wants more specifics, ask me your questions in the comments.)

Oh, have I ever mentioned that going from “shut up and take these antidepressants because you don’t know anything” a few years ago to “only you know your body; develop your own chemo plan” has given me some serious whiplash?

I’m appreciative of the respect I get from my oncologist. But I’d say my past medical trauma has left some scars. And sometimes I lack confidence when it comes to weighty medical decisions, like how to treat brain cancer.

That’s not to say I’m doing this all on my own. Just the parts about how much poison I can swallow before I sink into crushing depression.

The part of me that wants to not take chemo again—ever—is getting pushier all the time. But then there’s the part of me that’s like, “Well, life is pretty cool. Even if it makes me puke.”

I digress, so I might as well just shift gears from the kombucha during chemo thing completely.

While we were at the store picking up our curbside grocery order, the order with the kombucha in it, Mom texted me some pictures of the contractor’s prep for excavation. They are tearing up her idyllic back yard to make our basement entrance. 

Sorry, Mom! 

But every step forward takes a little bit of stress off. I could do with less stress, you know? Especially since my Zentangle stuff is currently packed away.

So when do we move in? Dunno. I’ve watched too much HGTV to expect we’ll actually be moved in by the end of 2022, but that’s our hope. 

Anyway, everything *is* headed that direction, and for now that’s more than enough. You can scroll through the updates on my GoFundMe for additional details and see where we’re at on our fundraising goal.

We also celebrated—and by celebrated I mean happened to remember—Izzy’s Gotcha Day on June 9. So have a gratuitous cat photo.

She really loves how little I move around on chemo. It means she can sleep all day undisturbed.

Lastly, here’s a picture of Boomer lazing under Hal, our linden tree, with Pipsquatch. We all miss the shade of the giant maple tree that was taken out by a tornado a couple of summers ago, but Hal is growing up nicely.

Large black dog lying in a landscaped area next to a concrete statue of Bigfoot

Hope your week is off to a good start. I have to put on real clothes for an oncology appointment, so, like, bye and stuff.

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