First, thank you for the well-wishes, cards, food, art sales, shares, thumbs up, prayers, flowers, high vibes, donations, snacks, check-ins, and general support. Every bit of it was truly received and appreciated. I am still in awe of my community, friends, and family, who showed up with magical precision.

Good news: I’m recovering well from surgery and starting to feel more human. The cancer surgeon (total rock star) got clean margins and scooped 17 lymph nodes from a narrow opening (who knew I had such tricky lymph node placement?). Regular check-ins with the plastic surgeon have been routine, and I am beginning to get used to a new normal-ish.

Bad news: the cancer was more significant than showed on MRI and had made its way to the lymph nodes.

Good news: in only 1 out of 17 nodes.

Bad news: but it was macro and showed up in surrounding areas.

Good news: my bone scans are clear.

Bad news: I will need chemo and radiation and maybe more surgery.

No news: I still need more scans the first week in June and am hopeful they will be clear as well, but it is pending and weighing heavily. Please don’t say, “I’m sure it will be fine,” as you can’t know that, and no one does. There isn’t anything to say to lighten that load, as this journey has been about accepting the news as it comes and hoping for the best. Hold the space for me of not knowing and stay with me there. That’s the best we can do on that one.

Good news: I’m resolved and ready to make the best of this bullshit. I’m not feeling like a warrior as this cancer was built by my body, and fighting my body doesn’t feel like the right way to go right now. I am visualizing a drunk demon toddler with a gun showing up with a rotten macaroni necklace, “Look what I made for you! I worked so hard on it for all this time in secret! I hid it from everyone! SURPRISE!”. I need to remind that demon child that I appreciate the effort gently, but it needs to put down the gun and channel the creative efforts into something less hazardous and more helpful. If I kick its ass, then my ass may go with it. It needs a mother, not a warrior. I will hold this image of this confused part of my body, and you’re welcome to do the same. “Good job buddy, now let’s see about how we can put that gun away and who gave you that martini…?!” Once it is gone, we can talk more shit about it or look into reform schools.

abstract figurative painting deep blue woman with horns and imagery reflecting cancer — “That Demon is Me”
8” x 8”
Oil, Acrylic, Graphite, Pastel on Wood

My word for the year is “selve”; it is self as a verb. So far, 2024 has gone above and beyond “hold my beer” and set up a banquet for me in the self-care department. This crazy cancer demon is as much a part of me as anything else. I will constantly look for balance in marveling at creation and hating it enough to save myself. It is a highly personal journey, and I know that sharing it may do some good for my mental health and others. I will try to handle it the way I handle most things, with candor and privacy when required, mainly through art and social media. Please allow the indulgence. General feedback is welcome, and if you are struggling and have questions, feel free to PM me.

I have so many wonderful people who offer to be there to talk about cancer. Please don't take it personally if I don’t feel like talking about it. The odds are almost 100% that it is not something I want to do with my friends. I want to talk about cancer with world-renowned oncologists and those actively treating me. This shit is complicated, takes up a ton of my time, and changes daily. I want to talk about gossip, gardening, reality television, art, politics, movies, food, TikTok humor, thrift store finds, cannabis gummies, empty nesting, shoe sales, makeup, grilling vegetables, fashion, farm fresh eggs, river flows, binging Netflix, new car shopping, bread baking, music and all the other things I love and forgot to mention. I have a great support system of people I talk with about cancer: those who have been there, are currently there, and those who are on the front lines negotiating with my demon child. Getting everyone up to speed on cancer isn’t fun for anyone. I assure you, it will be boring for you and tiring for me. Send dumb memes instead.

For those who are interested, I have been diagnosed with invasive lobular breast cancer. It is hormone-positive and HER2-negative. I have been doing yearly mammograms and breast exams since my 30s due to family history. NO ONE felt it, even after the diagnosis and the specialists' examination, still didn’t feel it. NO MACHINE saw the whole picture; mammogram, ultrasound, and MRI didn’t pick up everything happening. I didn’t know about the different ways lobular grows and shows up. I wish I did, so I’m telling you now. Even if you do “everything right” this shit can still happen. If you have a history of breast cancer in your family and/or dense breasts, talk to your doctor about new genetic testing (it is getting more advanced every year) and closer regular screenings. Please get your yearly mammogram and stay on top of every breast twinge and change.

Chemo starts sometime next month. I hear they have made significant progress in managing side effects. I’ll still be Bald AF, though. I’ll keep you posted here.

Onward!