Targeted Therapy, One Step at a Time

 June 1st - Targeted Therapy Starts

On Monday, I met with a member of Dr. Hake’s team. They reviewed all of my bloodwork to make sure everything looked good to begin the next phase of my treatment plan. We asked a lot of questions about the targeted therapy and left feeling informed and encouraged about what to expect.

While we were at the clinic, I also received another infusion to help strengthen my bones. One of the sweetest parts of the day was getting to reconnect with some of the nurses who cared for me 12 years ago during my initial breast cancer diagnosis. At one point, there were three of them gathered outside my room, just chatting and catching up.

Thank you to Andy’s mom and my sister-in-law Kris for coming with me. There was a lot of information to take in, and having extra ears—and extra minds thinking of questions—was such a gift.

Both Andy’s school and mine showed their support in the most incredible way—by wearing “Meinecke Strong” shirts as we stepped into this next phase of treatment. Seeing so many photos of students and staff proudly wearing the shirts on Meinecke Strong Day meant more than words can express. It truly touched our entire family. If you haven’t seen it yet, be sure to check out the Waterford Facebook post.

Park View Middle School Staff, Mukwonago

Fox River Middle School Staff, Waterford

The next step in my treatment is starting Kisqali (ribociclib), a medication used for hormone receptor-positive breast cancer. It’s been around for about eight years and has shown some phenomenal results. This is considered a targeted therapy rather than traditional chemotherapy. While chemotherapy attacks all rapidly dividing cells (including healthy ones), targeted therapies like Kisqali work differently. They specifically block proteins (CDK4 and CDK6) that my cancer cells rely on to grow and multiply. The goal is to slow or stop the cancer’s growth while sparing more of the healthy cells in my body.

My schedule will be three pills taken daily for 21 days, followed by 7 days off for recovery. The plan is to complete about three cycles and then do scans to see how things are progressing. The medication is delivered directly to our home and requires a signature, and it needs to be refrigerated. Yesterday (6/2), my mom and I went out to lunch, and I packed a little cooler to bring my meds along. I’ll gradually work on adjusting the timing so I can take it closer to breakfast instead of lunchtime.

We were also given very clear instructions on handling the medication. No one else should touch the pills. Some people even pour them into a cup to avoid contact. If I get sick, anyone helping me should wear gloves, and we should use towels that we’re okay throwing away if needed.

Like most medications, there’s a long list of potential side effects. The most common include low white blood cell counts, increased liver enzymes, nausea, fatigue, and headaches. Some patients also experience infections, hair thinning, cough, and rash. I would truly appreciate prayers for minimal side effects and that my body tolerates this medication well.

As for how long I’ll be on Kisqali—this is something I will continue taking as long as it’s working. If it stops being effective, Dr. Hake will adjust the plan and we’ll move on to something else. I’ve been told to think of this more like a chronic condition—something to manage and live with over time.

While that can feel overwhelming, I’m choosing to hold onto hope. Medicine continues to advance, treatments continue to improve, and I am surrounded by an incredible support system. One day at a time, one step at a time—I’m trusting that there is still so much life to live, and I’m not done fighting.

Grateful, Tired, and Moving Forward

May 27th - Last Radiation Treatment

Stage one of my treatment plan is complete. I’m incredibly grateful for my radiation team—especially Dr. Weyers and the radiation technicians. I truly looked forward to the daily check-ins, sharing little updates, and chatting with the nurses along the way. Dr. Weyers is simply amazing—she listens, answers every question thoughtfully, and never once made me feel rushed. At my final appointment, she did prepare me that the next few days would likely bring peak fatigue.

Over the past couple of days, I’ve continued working to manage the nausea. Most mornings start with an anti-nausea pill just to get moving. I’m thankful that my skin handled radiation well, but the fatigue has definitely been real. Even something as simple as walking across the track to cheer on Gavin at regionals was a challenge. By his second race, I needed help just getting back up to the bleachers—which is so not me.

There have been so many people who have stepped in to support us over these past weeks, and it’s hard to even begin to thank everyone. I’m especially grateful to my cousin Rhonda for taking me to so many appointments—you mean more to me than you know. Thank you to my cousin Kate, and to friends Liz and Jenny, for coming over and helping clean our home. And to everyone who has sent cards, messages, gifts, and meals—thank you. These are all things I haven’t been able to do, and your kindness has lifted such a weight, not just for me but for Andy as well.

So many people ask how I’m doing when they see me. My usual response is, “I’m hanging in there” or “I’m doing okay.” But what I really want to say is this—I hate this. I hate not being able to go outside and play games with my kids. I hate watching them play frisbee golf or basketball instead of jumping right in. I want to pick up a volleyball and bump it back and forth with Clara. I want to jump on the trampoline with them. I want to not be in constant pain or feel nauseous all day long. I miss being able to do everything I could before I got sick. I miss me.

I know people say to trust in God—that He has a purpose through all of this. And I do believe that. But some days, it’s just really hard.