Two years ago today, I knew something wasn’t right in my body. I hadn’t yet seen my midwife or been referred for an ultrasound, I just knew.

We had spent the weekend in Northern California, celebrating my brother’s engagement and the upcoming babies that would be joining our family. The whole time, a lump that I’d found several weeks before, was being rubbed and poked by the underwire of my bra. I was hoping it was just a clogged milk duct since I was pregnant but I had secretly already begun to prep myself for the chance that it could be something worse.

I mean, I knew that it was a possibility, having lost my mom to C in 2008. But at that point in my life, I didn’t know that I carried the BRCA gene and honestly, I was looking for inflammatory breast C symptoms since that’s what she had and that’s what I was familiar with. Not a lump… or 5.

The week and a half that followed was a complete whirlwind. A scheduled prenatal appointment (that happened to be on my mom’s birthday) started it all. The midwife’s face projected the concern I really wasn’t hoping for. The ultrasound that Friday, which required the doctor to take more pics because ‘he liked to take them himself’, was immediately followed up by me crying on the table with my belly propped up on pillows, positioned awkwardly so that they could complete an unplanned biopsy.

I was supposed to be creating a safe space for the baby inside of me. Instead, I was panicking, filling with stress. Thinking I was going to die. Wondering what my babies would do without me.

A funny (not ha ha funny) part of that timeline is that we had maternity photos scheduled for Monday, the day before diagnosis. Underneath that blue dress, my breast was tender, sore from the biopsy. Behind our smiles was fear of what was to come- and some denial.

And then the story we are all familiar with- the call. Tuesday morning I got the call while at work. I had cancer. Me, mom of a 1 year old, 32 weeks pregnant with our second baby, 32 years old.

A lot has happened since that crazy week and now, two years later, I am grateful to still be able to update this blog.

I’m not actually sure the point of this particular post. And honestly, I have other things to report on. But it felt right to share again. And to celebrate that I’m still kicking, two years later.

So I guess, stay tuned.

Hot flashes can suck it. Kick rocks. Fuck off. Whatever. I just want them to STAAAHHHPPP! 😩

I currently have the AC blasting, the ceiling fan on high, another standing fan on high, and two ice packs on me just so I can cool off enough to fall asleep… And I’m still sweating.

My hot flashes are getting progressively worse, leaving me with a perma-glow. They happen day and night, night and day. Sometimes, I have to get up and change my shirt in the middle of the night because I’m soaked. I’m constantly looking at the weather app to see when this heat wave will end…. answer- not anytime soon. I’ve been working with my doctor but we have yet to find sweat success. So if you see me out and about, please ignore my pit stains and sweat-stach. 👍🏻

Some less disgusting news- I am super excited to report that I am in the process of becoming a volunteer with Kaiser Hospital.

A little back tracking- When I started chemo, at one of my first treatments, a lady walked up to my chair and began chatting with me. She was a survivor and volunteered her time in the infusion center with patients undergoing treatment. I clearly remember her and saying that once I was out of treatment, I wanted to volunteer too.

Well, thanks to my amazing C Navigator, Brenda, I was introduced to the head of the Breast Cancer Peer Support Program a couple of months back. Once the background check and orientation/training is completed, I will begin connecting with other young people who’ve been recently diagnosed, as a peer support person.

This is actually a role that I’ve gladly stepped into since being diagnosed in August of 2016, just not via Kaiser. Since my diagnosis, I’ve been connected with several people through family, friends, friends of friends, my blog/social media, etc… and I truly enjoy it.

My hope is that, through Kaiser, I will be able to connect with more people and be able to help build an amazing community of fiercely strong, positive, and supported peeps. 💪🏻

Sometimes, it’s so difficult to practice what you preach. And if you’re me, you don’t even realize that it’s happening. Or not happening? I don’t know how to express that thought.

Lately, I have been feeling disconnected from myself. Not depressed but disconnected. And not just from myself but from others too. Some days, it feels like I put on this costume of someone who has it all together. Most of the time, I can find the right words to say to others in the moments they need them. Or I find the strength to lift them up when it’s just so damn hard. But then I go home and I feel…. disconnected. Always lacking the right words for myself, unable to lift myself up.

I’m not able to pin point the source of this disconnection. It could be hormonal changes from my hysterectomy. It could be that I’m spreading myself too thin, I’m too busy. It could be because I haven’t “shown up to therapy” in too long- AKA updating the blog. It could be that I’m so frustrated with my hair but know that I should be thankful to have it.

It could be that while learning to navigate the new me, I never realized that those around me would have to be doing the same- a pretty selfish thing to realize. It could be so many things… so many things all mixed together.

I don’t know. And it doesn’t matter, what matters is that I’ve noticed it. Others have noticed it, so it’s time to address it.

I’m not looking for tips or advice, I’m just venting in what I consider a safe space. And I truly feel like once I get this off my chest by hitting ‘publish’, I’ll start to feel free and more capable of working on myself. But right now, I’m having too many moments of feeling like I’m fumbling around to get my oxygen mask on while the people around me suffer. You know, that airplane analogy and what not…. and actually, even since I started brainstorming this post a couple of weeks ago, I’ve already begun to feel at ease.

Since my last post, quite a bit has happened. I spoke at Kaiser’s C Survivors Day and I didn’t pee myself. I had people thank me at the end, share their stories with me, shake my hand. It felt good to be able to share myself with others and to have such positive feedback.

I’ve been teaching a bunch of yoga classes and I really dig it. I feel very lucky to have been given the opportunities to share what I love so dearly with others. If your in OC, come find me!

I had a bone density scan which came back great. It was primarily done to get a baseline to compare to later on and also, to look into some joint pain I’ve been having. I have the typical results of a woman my age which is awesome considering that I am in menopause, though no answer to the gnarly joint pain that causes me to shuffle to the bathroom each morning to pee. And the nagging joint pain that doesn’t allow me to open the top on my kombucha…. and life’s other important tasks. 🤷🏻‍♀️

I got a haircut about a month ago to control the mullet I had dominating my head. I now feel like I’m wearing a hair helmet. So, that needs to be fixed soon. Or is that what it’s like to grow out post chemo hair? 🤨

John and I celebrated 5 years of marriage but both agree it feels more like 15. Glad to report, we are still in love.

I’m sure there are more things, ideas, and events I am missing from the last two months. Thoughts I forgot to jot down. But that’s life. 💜