Have you heard the joke?

Teepee, wigman--two tents (too tense). That's me these days.

You know how it is when you go to the doctor for a well visit, you run in, get your tests or exam and leave. And you never think or expect something might be wrong. That's how I've been all my life. I get the exams, even the icky ones, on schedule, I floss my teeth, brush my teeth twice a day, see my dentist twice a year etc. etc. etc.

For me, it wasn't the breast cancer that changed this mindset for me, it was when I was diagnosed with melanoma in August, 2017.

The only reason I was so faithful about getting my skin checked every year was because a much loved mentor in college died from melanoma, and it wasn't a good death. Because of how he died, I've always feared melanoma even though on the face of it, I have very few risk factors. I had dark hair (color it now), dark eyes, I don't burn easily, I didn't get many burns as a kid and I never really got into tanning beds (I found them boring). So I was gobsmacked to have a melanoma on my back. My margins were clear, which is good. But of course I'm on the six month follow up plan, originally for five years and now my dermatologist wants me to continue for well I don't know how long. I'm a fan of that even though I get very nervous for those checks or when it seems a mole has changed.

Flash forward to May 2018, and I fractured my pelvis, which I also could not comprehend. In fact I told the orthopedist she was wrong when she called to tell me the news. But I had, and I'd done it from over training. And then the DEXA scan showed osteoporosis. Boy did that put me in a tailspin.

That may sound silly, but hear me out. We all have mental images of who and what we are, and mine's all about being strong RAWR I can do things myself. Only apparently I can break my bone without falling or being in an accident. Not the kind of RAWR I want at all.

So then in 2019 when events moved super fast from 3D mammo to come back please to diagnostic mammo plus ultrasound to biopsy. I remember lying on my side while she got things ready to do the biopsy and she said something about 80% of these biopsies are benign and I said yup, I'm sure it's nothing. But then again, I thought the same thing about the melanoma and the fractured pelvis so I'd better get this checked. Sure enough, boom. Breast cancer.

Oh but wait, there's more. Last fall I had a lump removed from my arm that turned out to be an atypical leiomyoma, which is associated with kidney cancer (yes, atypical leiomyomas are usually found inside the body and for women, they're often uterine fibroids but not me, I'm a snowflake). And of course the follow up kidney scan did find a couple of dinky tumors on my right kidney. So there's another thing for the regular follow up list.

Sign on a neighbor's house

While I'm not physically fragile, emotionally I feel tattered around the edges and dislike living with the idea or fear of something coming back. That is such an unrecognized cost of breast cancer and I'm not entirely sure how to navigate through it.

I don't feel so RAWR these days. Next week I'm scheduled for my first set of post-cancer scans. In my case, I'll have an ultrasound on the left breast as it's far too painful still for a mammogram. I have a lot of scar tissue, and frankly it hurts all the time. I'll have a diagnostic mammogram on my right breast.

Now put a big helping of COVID 19 on top of all of that, add in a global economic meltdown and rampant job loss, and you bet I'm an anxious bundle of tension. I'm so incredibly glad I run, otherwise I would probably be a hot mess. 

Yesterday

I made bagels.

With Everything But
The Bagel seasoning

I used a recipe from Skinnytaste (hate the name, but there are some good recipes on her site)—it’s not a traditional bagel recipe. Instead you use Greek yogurt (she is very clear that regular yogurt won’t work), baking powder and then bake, not boil, the bagels. The comments ranged from “best bagel ever!” to “the outside baked just fine but the inside was still doughy” and everything in between.

I followed one tip, I weighed the flour instead of just measuring it. But I had a hard time getting exactly one cup of Greek yogurt because I had to scoop it out of my individual yogurt containers (I have one a day at breakfast, and since they are not quite six ounces each, I had to use one plus part of another—I did my best). I also baked them for about five minutes longer than indicated. Next time I think I’d drop the heat to 350 and bake even longer.

We each had one this morning and they were pretty good. I always slice and toast my bagels and then put butter on it, and that's what I did for ours today. I really like that they aren’t gigantic, most store-bought bagels are so big you could practically use them as spare tires for your car. 

My COVID 19 efforts

Once the Kansas City metro area (both sides of the state line!) issued the stay at home order and also ordered non-essential businesses to shutter, I realized that this pandemic was going to crush most small businesses. As with the staffing model change at work, I can’t save everyone but knew I could do something to help.

First up, our cat sitter. She does an amazing job, this is her only source of income and we have been so glad to have her take care of our sometime obnoxious cats. The first week of the stay at home order, we sent her $100 via her normal payment route. Last week, she sent out a fund-raising campaign with t shirts, so we’ve ordered two. While neither of those amounts will replace her lost income, I hope it helps some.

Easter dinner

Next the restaurant where we had my incredible surprise 60th birthday dinner—Affäre. Like many restaurants in the area, they immediately shifted to curbside pick-up for a set menu. We’ve gotten dinner there twice, and then ordered our Easter meal shown from them too (shown in this photo). We can’t order from them every week, it’s not cheap so not really in our budget, but I know it’s helped and they’ve been clear with all their customers how moved they are by the support.

Masks in progress last week

Finally, fabric masks. I joked around a couple of years ago with a friend who is somewhat of an end-time prepper—she’d said that people with skills would be welcome at their “compound” when the apocalypse comes. I told her then that Kent and I both sew and she was lukewarm about whether that skill counted as essential during those end times. Joke’s on her, it definitely counts.

We’ve already made and distributed about 40 fabric masks and I’ve got another 22 cut and partially assembled. No, these aren’t the same quality as the N-95 masks but I’ve made them with fabric that has a very high thread count and they’re lined. Most have ties, the child masks have elastic so they stay on. As I told someone  who tried to thank me for making her family masks—hey, I can do this bit of good, so I am.

One year ago

I was diagnosed with my second cancer. Doesn’t that seem like more than a year ago? So much has happened and is happening that it’s sort of hard to realize this time last year was a big stressful time for me and my family.

You will always know if things are incredibly challenging in my world by how much or little I post. When I’ve got one big rock tugging at me (as I did last year with cancer), I’m able to post. I have enough mental and emotional bandwidth to do that. But since returning from the Philippines in January (which, by the way, had active cases of COVID 19 while I was there plus let’s not forget Taal—what, you say? What’s Taal? The volcano that erupted while I was there . . . boy it’s been a year).

Once I got back to the States, work picked up in a difficult way. We’re going through a major change in how we staff. That change is ultimately positive, well it’s positive for those who get jobs. But of the 16 people on my team, only three are unaffected by this change. The rest have had to apply for just four positions. That’s right, my team is going from at total of 16 people to seven. I have been lobbying like crazy behind the scenes and was able to get one hired and onboarded right as the Kansas City metro area issued the stay at home order.

All of this has been sucking the life out of me. I see the business needs, yes. I also see the people, the human beings on my team who—if this change actually happens—will be unemployed by the end of the month right as our national unemployment rate has skyrocketed to insanely high levels. And I say if this change actually happens because, well, it may not. If you live in the US and you pay attention to the news, you know that nearly every industry is reducing their employee headcount. Personal opinion only, not speaking as an employee of my company—I do think layoffs are coming, probably sooner but no later than this summer.

In the meantime, here I am with an anniversary I don’t really care to celebrate. The cancer itself is gone as far as we can tell (we call that no evidence of disease or NED; you never really know if it’s gone until you croak from something else). The side effects of the surgery and radiation are a very different story. I don’t think I would have changed the course of treatment; I think I would have still gone through radiation but boy, that one is the gift that keeps on giving. I’m glad the fatigue is gone, but the arm tightness and the impaired range of motion is still fully with me. I’ve also had pain in my left rib since October. I don’t believe that’s metastasized cancer, I think its radiation damage. If I’m correct, then that’s probably with me for the rest of my life.

Similarly, I still have a fair amount of discomfort, OK pain really, from my healed broken pelvis. It’s not debilitating but it’s tiring, and it never stops.

In other news, the marathon I planned to run in June has been canceled. As I posted on Instagram, it’s the right decision but I’m personally crushed. This marathon had a lot of meaning for me to run this summer, the year I’m 60, the year I’m (hopefully) healthy and my bones are (hopefully) healed. They’re offering a virtual race, and I’ll probably do it if only to be able to wear the marathon jacket1, but it won’t be the same.

1I have a personal rule that I don’t wear race gear until I’ve completed the race.

And so I don't end on a Debbie Downer note, here are a couple of random positive photos.

My home office, in the living room

A new print that makes me smile