Mercy.

When I originally started this blog, it was to update alllll the people who are connected to and care for Kara. Now, I find myself writing when I need a place for the grief to land.

Today we traveled to Iowa City to get Kara’s “rash” looked at. I first noticed the bumps on Christmas Day. She didn’t complain. She didn’t scratch at them. They were just… there. On December 31, we had an appointment with a nurse practitioner at her oncologist’s office. They didn’t think the bumps were presenting like mets and suggested we try cortisone cream. But the alarms in my brain wouldn’t turn off. Why would a rash only appear on the breast where the cancer originated? I went through the list of medications we’ve been on and off... and nothing correlated. If she were allergic to a med, we’d see the rash more broadly. Maybe it was an outbreak from extended steroid use? Was it shingles? I reached out to dermatology to take a look.

They could have taken a biopsy but didn’t feel it was necessary to be confident that this was, indeed, skin mets. I remember months ago when I first learned this was a possibility. It made me physically ill to think about the cancer presenting externally. And today, my only concern is whether it’s going to cause her pain.

I say it all the damn time but Kara is such a trooper. First of all, getting out the door was not easy. She needed a break to sit before even walking outside. She winced in pain getting into the car. During a quick pit stop at Kwik Star, I was adjusting her seat and repositioning her body, trying to get her comfortable for the drive. We waited forever in the waiting room, nearly an hour... and literally every single person’s name was called before hers and we were the last person remaining in the waiting area. And Kara… she just sat there with a smile while I spiraled.

She was happy on the way home and requested McDonald’s. Burgers are still a favorite in her mind but not for her stomach. A couple bites, then she moves on to french fries and her favorite food item lately: vanilla ice cream. She can have it anytime she wants, as far as I’m concerned. But she hasn't taken me up on it, maybe she doesn't think I'm serious about ice cream for breakfast but I definitely am.

She dozed off and on during the drive home, waking up occasionally to sing a few lines from the songs on her playlist. When I hear music, it transcends me to other places. Back to the Island. I think about all the times I’ve twirled her around the lanai on Siesta Key listening to this song. Cheeseburger in Paradise --- gosh, does she love those damn burgers at Captain Curt’s. Shake It Off --- how as soon as that song came on, she would uncontrollably jump up and down with excitement, flailing her arms and screaming the part: Oh my God, I’m just gonna shake it. Tennessee Whiskey --- how she should be listening to that on the beach tonight during cocktail hour. How all was right in the world in those moments, even though we didn’t know how limited that precious time would be.

Back to where my feet are… we see her oncologist on Thursday. But having the cancer spread to her skin while she’s on oral chemo is not good. To me, it likely means her body isn’t responding to this drug. And we only have one drug left on the table to try to keep the cancer at bay, or maybe two, if you go by the Florida doctor’s recommendation to retest her tumor, which is still up for debate locally on whether that should/could happen with pathology and whether it makes a difference.

But, we’re all home now. Kara is back in her comfort zone, in her recliner with her blanket and I am so, so grateful she’s able to relax there. She’s asleep and holding the appointment card for her next visit because miracously she still loves doctors and scheduling her next appointment.

No matter how many days we live with this diagnosis, I still look at her and feel the surrealness of it all. How unfair this is to a woman who should never have to know this kind of suffering.

At this point in our journey, I can’t understate how exhausting this all is. I would fight with her and for her forever but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t completely depleting me too. Every decision I make outside of her care feels so unimportant. Even when I know logically that isn't true, I make many consequential decisions. But right now, I have immense decision fatigue and brain fog because all my energy is consumed by her needs. I’m not complaining, I think I just need some days that hurt a little less than the ones we’ve had lately. Can I get a moment to recalibrate? Probably not this week.

So with my head pounding, my neck tight with tension, a lump in my throat, my dad still quarantined with Influenza B (yikes) and my mom visibly at her breaking point not because she’s not strong but because this all just hurts so damn much --- tonight, I pray simply for mercy.

---

If You're New Here

Hi, I’m Alisha, Kara’s sister and biggest advocate. Kara was diagnosed with Stage 4 Triple-Negative Invasive Ductal Carcinoma (TNBC) in December 2024. Her cancer spread to her bones, liver and other areas, making this an incredibly difficult and uncertain journey.

Despite it all, Kara’s light still shines so brightly. She’s full of love, giggles and endless positivity. This blog is where I share updates on her fight, the highs and lows and the incredible community rallying around her.

Thank you for being here, for your love, support and prayers. We need them more than ever. 💛 And of course, Go Hawks!

Team Kara Support Fund

Your gift helps cover travel, caregiving and comfort-related expenses for Kara’s support team. While Kara cannot receive funds directly, your generosity provides the relief and resources we need to keep showing up with love.

https://givebutter.com/teamkara