I get it. I don’t know the right thing to say either. It is all so personal and universal.
It’s weird for me, too!

Everything has changed.
Treat me the same.
But know that I’m different.
We can figure it out together.

The small ones go fast, so follow me on Instagram, Facebook, or Etsy if you want to purchase. I plan on painting through the end of the year.

Forgive me for TMI or shutdown, or if I laugh at something offensive, cancel plans or charge ahead and break something with these bull horns. On Planet Cancer, gravity is different, and my right arm is numb.

Don’t worry about offending me. I won’t be shy if I feel I’m owed an apology. I’ll let you know how I’m doing, but don’t ask unless you’re prepared for complicated or confusing answers. This shit is complicated and confusing.

I’m happy to ignore it too. I talk about it all day with doctors, billing departments, close family, and insurance companies. I have online support from a community that shares my diagnosis and treatment plans. They want to get into the gritty details and are available 24/7. This is one instance where social media fulfills the promise of the internet and a more connected world. It is a miracle I plan to share more about.

I’m more than happy to take a break from Planet Cancer and don’t feel compelled to get everyone up to speed all the time.

“How’s Planet Cancer?”
“It’s a fucking trip.”
“Yeah, I bet.”

I will feel sufficiently checked in on, and you can dive right into whatever is going on with you. Bonus points if you’ve got something juicy going on or the inside scoop on what the hell is going on with the Democratic Party (no hot takes, inside scoop only; I will vet your credentials).

Hang in there, friends.

I’ll do the same.