After a much-needed week-long chemo break to celebrate our son’s graduation from BYU and visit family in Utah, I returned to the infusion center on Monday, 5/1/2023 for Round 4. But before diving into that update, I want to look back and recap Round 3.

I need to remember this experience—all of it. I truly believe these memories will help grow my compassion for others facing the same mountain. On the good days, it’s surprisingly easy to forget how hard the hard days actually were.

It reminds me of childbirth. Once it’s behind you, the joy and beauty that follow somehow soften the trauma—sometimes enough that you’d even be willing to do it again. That’s how chemo has felt for me. I’m documenting the hard parts not to dwell on them, but to keep a record. Each time I get through one, I feel stronger. I can remind myself: it’s temporary. I’ve done hard things before. I can do this again.

So here’s the recap of Round 3:

Monday (4/10/2023) – Infusion day hit hard: severe gas and bloating, a pounding headache, acid reflux, a tight throat, voice changes (I sounded like a little old lady), and difficulty swallowing. I finally fell asleep around 3am.

Tuesday (4/11/2023) – I managed to sleep in and woke up at 9am, but I had sharp pain behind my shoulder blade that radiated up my neck. It felt like a rib was out of place. I scheduled a myopractic adjustment.

Wednesday (4/12/2023) – Still bloated and nauseated. The adjustment didn’t help much. Neuropathy kicked in—not the usual tingling, but burning, searing pain in my hands and feet that kept me up all night. And ironically, cold temperatures trigger the neuropathy, so I couldn’t even cool them down.

Thursday (4/13/2023) – Finally had a bowel movement, but also had an ostomy bag mishap during my morning irrigation. (Sorry if that’s TMI.) That morning, my friend Sheena Wrick (a student from my Miracles Made Simple program) helped talk me down from an 8–9 pain level to a 1–2. Later, I got a lymphatic massage and spent time on a vibration plate to help metabolize and flush the chemo out. The goal is for side effects to subside within 5 days so I can recover fully before the next round, but mine have consistently lasted all 14 days. The shoulder pain alone made everything else feel minor in comparison. (My doctor actually suggested skipping a week before I brought it up—which worked out perfectly for our Utah trip.)

Friday (4/14/2023) – Bloating and blockage finally cleared. I watched a video on miraculous healing and, feeling inspired, prayed with conviction for my shoulder to be healed. It actually felt better afterward, and I finally got some sleep.

Saturday (4/15/2023) – I hoped the side effects would be gone, but they lingered. The shoulder pain returned, but I was still grateful for the break I had from it. I also had a bout of diarrhea that day—it lasted about 24 hours, but thankfully the ostomy bag meant I wasn’t running to the bathroom every five minutes. (I may even miss it when it’s gone! The plan is to reverse it after chemo.)

Week 2 (4/17–21/2023) – My husband had a work conference in Las Vegas, so I tagged along to recover in the hotel. We flew out Monday.

We used a wheelchair to get me everywhere - all through the airport and the massive Venetian hotel.

I didn’t have the strength to walk far, but my spirits were up. I got work done, binged shows, and enjoyed room service. In the evenings, we curled up and watched shows together.

One of the biggest challenges of chemo is passing the time when you don’t have the strength or energy for the things you used to enjoy. The diarrhea stuck around for most of that week. Thankfully, the cramping faded after the first day, and the episodes gradually slowed from every five minutes to about 4–6 times per day. Still, it depleted my potassium levels, which meant more meds—and was a big reason my doctor pushed for a break. A full week of diarrhea isn’t something you just push through.

Trevan snapped a few photos to show just how much of that week was spent resting in Vegas. I could’ve stayed home and done the same thing—but I’m so glad I didn’t.

Giving Myself Grace

I used to feel guilty for watching too much TV—there’s always something more productive I could be doing! But after burning the candle at both ends for the last 25–30 years, I’ve decided to give myself some grace. These days, a little distraction is part of the climb. It helps me navigate this very different kind of mountain.

Climbing a Mountain

During the Vegas trip, Trevan convinced me to join his team for their end-of-week dinner downstairs. I’m so glad I did. I’ve seen his coworkers annually for years, but it always felt a little surface-level. This time, though, the connection was real. I felt seen, supported, and genuinely cared for. I’ve grown to love those people. They were warm, generous, and full of concern. After we returned home, his company even sent me a care package—with yet another gloriously snuggly blanket.

The company owner's wife is a nurse, and she told my husband,
"Leslie's climbing a mountain right now. But when she gets to the top, she's going to be so glad she did it!"

For some reason, that image hit me just right. It described this season of life so perfectly. The mountain is massive. The climb is slow, exhausting, and most of the effort is happening inside—where no one can see it. But the fatigue is real.

Still, there are moments where the trail flattens just enough to catch my breath. There are people cheering me on from the sidelines. There are helping hands reaching back to lift me to the next mini-summit. And there are voices calling down from the top—people who’ve already made their climb—reminding me that I can do this, and that it’s worth it.

A Night on the Town

After dinner, I was more than ready to crash—but we decided to squeeze in one last little adventure. We wandered around the resort, snapped some pictures, and soaked in the magic of the moment together.

The gondola ride we decided to take was icing on the cake. Our driver sang Italian love songs while we floated the fake river. He was hilarious. I asked if he is really Italian and he said “yes, by blood and by paycheck. I can be whatever you pay me to be.”

Friday (4/21/2023) – We got home Friday morning just in time for me to dash to the doctor’s office for bloodwork ahead of Monday’s planned infusion. But my potassium came back too low, so the doctor hit pause and gave me an extra week before starting Round 4.

Saturday (4/22/2023) – We lucked out with some last-minute tickets to the Millennial Choirs and Orchestra spring concert at the Mesa Arts Center. I wasn’t sure I had the energy for it, but we pulled it off! About halfway through, though, my ostomy bag decided to misbehave—so I quietly slipped out and caught the rest of the performance from the hallway. Too bad ostomies don’t come with a sphincter. (Sorry—TMI? Just keeping it real.)

Ok, so why Chemo?

People have asked me why, if I am applying Rare Faith to my situation, why am I also subjecting myself to chemo? People can heal from cancer without it, so why not go an easier route? I have an answer to that question, which I will share here, separately.

To Utah for Son's Graduation:

Wednesday (4/26/2023) -It was fortunate that the doctor wanted to give me an extra week to recover, so we spent most of the third week having a break from chemo, flying to Utah to be with our oldest four kids celebrating one son's graduation.

I was even able to start tasting food normally again! During treatment, food just doesn't taste very good - anything cooked with oil at all tastes like waxy lard with no flavor. Savory totally escapes me. Sweet still works but I only had an appetite for a couple bites of anything.

Congratulations, son!

During the break, my taste buds finally came back online—and I made up for lost time, gaining 8 pounds in just one week! Suddenly, everything sounded amazing. I’d see something on TV and blurt out, “I want that…” and like magic, Trevan would make it happen. So yes, I’m back in my chubby pants—and honestly? Not even a little mad about it.

The nurses keep reminding me, “Eat whenever you feel like it,” because you never know when the appetite will disappear again. And truthfully, I could use the extra fuel.

After graduation, we got to spend some sweet time with my sister and her kids, and then with Trevan’s brother and his family. I wish I had taken more pictures—but here are a few:

Saturday morning (4/29/2023) - Nathan dropped us off at the airport in Provo...

...and after an unexpected 12 hour delay (TWELVE HOURS!) and a crazy fiasco with the airline issuing unusable vouchers to all the passengers...

…we were finally home again. I’m choosing not to spend any more energy recounting that travel nightmare.

Round 4!

Monday (5/1/2023) – Time for my next chemo infusion, along with a DPD gene mutation test to help figure out why this particular cocktail has hit me harder than expected. Turns out, they only run that test on Wednesdays—so I’ll have to wait until next time.

I joked with my doctor, “Maybe it’s because I’m a redhead?” (We gingers are famously harder to sedate and more sensitive to opioids.) He hadn’t heard of any direct link to chemo response, but said the test might give us more insight.

In the meantime, he reduced my dosage again—now down 20%—and we made a plan in case the burning in my hands and feet flares up again on day 3. (Which, conveniently, is today… so we’ll see how tonight goes.)

So far, this round has felt more manageable than the others, and I’m both grateful and cautiously hopeful. If things still don’t improve, we may need to try a different chemo cocktail altogether—but I’m really hoping this adjustment does the trick. At least with this one, I know what to expect.

A new regimen would be a whole new adventure… and with it, he said, I’d most likely lose my hair. With my current treatment, it’s just supposed to thin—but let’s be real, it’s definitely thinning. If this keeps up, I may just go ahead and shave it.

Something about the idea of shaving my head actually sounds kind of wonderful—one less thing to stress about. I asked the doctor, “At what point do your patients usually shave their heads?” He said, “Usually when they know they’re going to lose their hair.” Since we haven’t expected mine to fall out entirely, I was like, “Well… drat.”

While we were in Utah, my oldest son told me, “Yeah Mom, if you shave it now, it would just look like a pity flex.”

For the record, I’m not looking for pity—just simplicity. If I do decide to reset this noggin, that’s why.

Shout out to Trevan:

Trevan has really stepped up—taking charge of meals and making some seriously amazing dinners while I rest. Hello Fresh (which we use now and then) has been a big help. Here’s one he made this week that deserves a spotlight—and it was early enough in the chemo cycle that I could actually taste it!

Wednesday (5/3/2023) - we headed back to the doctor's office for a liter of IV fluid because chemo can be so dehydrating. They also took my blood for that genetic test. Trevan is always such an amazing support, truly my favorite human on the planet.

I took my "round #4" picture alone that day since Trevan had to run down to the Apple store during my 4 hour stay...

...to help our daughter Bethany unlock her phone—after she got stung by a jellyfish in Thailand (where she’s teaching English for three months), spent some time in the hospital, and then forgot her phone password.

When he came back to pick me up, we snapped our couple’s photo for Round 4:

Achieving the Impossible

About an hour after my infusion, I came home and led the next session of ATI (my Achieving the Impossible 12-month program). The rest of this post is just a little peek into what that’s all about. I’ll share more on my health journey in the next update. (Feel free to click off now and call it good—or stick around and keep reading!)

Our next ATI session kicks off June 14th.

We’re learning so much in there! It’s not for everyone, but for a small group of ready students, it’s a powerful, year-long coaching experience for people with big dreams—those who want real tools, structure, and support to go after goals that might feel impossible right now.

Life has a funny way of reflecting back our deepest beliefs and desires—just on a delay. That’s why it’s so important to get your thoughts, feelings, and beliefs aligned now, so your future has something better to mirror.

When we don’t consciously elevate our thinking, we tend to think beneath our circumstances—getting stuck in worst-case scenarios, trying to avoid pain, or obsessing over what’s going wrong. Ironically, that kind of thinking can start pulling our reality downward too.

These illustrations from our Mindset Mastery course are some of my favorites. They help me stay grounded in truth and patient with the process—reminding me to keep thinking right until my outer world catches up with what I know is possible:

Default thinking:

Rare Faith thinking:

In Achieving the Impossible, we help our students elevate their thinking—and we track their progress over time using the Mindset Quotient test (Extended version).

First, we ask them how they believe they should respond to various situations. This helps us assess their understanding of the principles. Then, we check how they actually think and feel in real life. What we’ve found is that as students internalize the principles, their understanding of how they should think becomes clearer. And as they become more familiar with what an ideal response looks like, they gain the courage and confidence to practice those responses in real time.

With consistent application, their actual thoughts and feelings begin to rise—which sets the stage for real, lasting change in their everyday lives.

Here are a few examples of what that looks like in action. You’ll notice how their understanding of the “best” responses improves steadily—and how their actual mindset begins to climb right along with it. Like we saw in the “Rare Faith thinking” illustration earlier, those better thoughts and feelings lay the foundation for improved circumstances to follow (even if the results show up on a delay).

In the charts below:

• “Best” = how they think they should respond

• “Actual” = how they truly felt at the time they took the test

Watch how both trend upward over the year:

Student #1

Student #2

Student #3:

Student #4:

Remembering the impact that our real thoughts and feelings have on our reality, it's so exciting when I get to see our students' scores trending up:

The percentage charts vary a bit because some students choose to take the test more frequently than others. During ATI, we officially check in on your progress each quarter—but you’re welcome to take the Extended version of the test (a $97 value) as often as you’d like for extra insight.

So, let’s do this!

Elevating your life really is a predictable process. Some of the greatest takeaways from this program are a boost in confidence, greater peace of mind, and a clear, doable path from where you are now… to where you truly want to be.

Let’s take life on together—over the next 12 months, one week at a time.

With love,
Leslie

P.S. Just a quick note: earlier versions of the test (prior to October 2022) didn’t capture whether students were answering based on what they thought was best versus what they actually felt. So we did a little detective work—looked at their instructions, aligned intentions with dates, and made it work. Since then, we’ve refined our process to ensure future participants have more reliable data and quicker insights for tracking real growth.

Next Update

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•   To discover how to start choosing more effectively now, read The Jackrabbit Factor (FREE!)  
•   If you want more step-by-step guidance on creating the life you really want, join me in the Mindset Mastery program.
•   If you want my help overcoming that giant obstacle right in front of you, learn more and sign up for Genius Bootcamp.