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.
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.
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| My home office, in the living room |
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| A new print that makes me smile |
1 comment:
It has been a YEAR for you. I'm glad you're feeling well and able to keep working from home. This is going to be a very interesting resolution, once things settle down. Hang in there. <3
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