Hello.

I've convened you all here because I love you. And, because, as you know, I like to talk. It has come to my attention that I am experiencing some rapidly updating newsflashes that many of you may like to know about. Because we are all accustomed to hitting refresh and getting scrolling updates these days, I thought this format might provide more substance and hopefully more clarity for you than I may be able to deliver in person on any given day. And I don't want you to feel awkward about asking if you feel like you're not getting enough. This way, you can just read the blog or not, depending on your interest in / tolerance for what may feel to you as redonkulously TMI and squirmily corporeal.

My thought is that we shall get the facts out of the way so we can focus on the lovin', m'kay?

First, I have to cite the inspiration for even doing this comes from two sage friends and mentors, both named Beth. The actual dispatch format I am cribbing directly from dear friends Katherine and Maria Grace, whose son, Rowan, made a very early debut into the world which through months at the Swedish NICU and beyond were very beautifully blogged about about as a means of keeping a grateful community abreast.

And abreast you shall be, whilst subjected to bad puns all the way.


Here goes.

Some time in early July, I found a little lump in my breast. In the type of beat-the-odds moment that keeps people buying lottery tickets with their last $2, it turned out to be cancerous. I'm condensing the story for efficiency here, but some of you know there was about six weeks between discovery and diagnosis, though thankfully, I have such a capacity for hoping-for-the-best (which some may call denial) that I really didn't worry much until I heard otherwise.

When I did get the unwelcome phone call, my reaction was "I am FAR too young for this" and "What did I do/not do, eat/drink or not, do too much/not do enough of, expose myself to?" etc. And after these rather standard reactions I fell into an overall mind-space that has held on tenaciously in the near month since my diagnosis. I am thankful it's just a little breast cancer, of the garden variety; nothing that seems terribly aggressive or suggests that I am going to die any time soon given the treatments available. This, dear friends, we can deal with.

It is in this mindset I that have been (save for the occasional 3AM freakout and bizarrely out-of-character temper tantrum about such things as driving directions. Poor Sawyer) thinking about all of you, telling a few of you and wanting to tell the rest of you.

In the whole crazy world of big news and big deals, this is certainly not the biggest deal. But it feels big at this moment because we humans do not do well with unknowns, and so much has been and currently still is unknown about how this is going to be treated. Honestly, the only thing really hard about the last few weeks has been the waiting. For all of you that are not liking the mere fact that I have been waiting, you should know that this is a very slow growing cancer that will not be effected by the delay of a few weeks. Knowing this, I chose to go with the surgeon that was highly recommended (and covered by my WA state insurance), and he could not see me for three weeks due to both our schedules. In that time, Sawyer and I have had a lot of opportunities to fall into internet black holes (less problematic for Sawyer, as he knows the allopathically "legit" places to check against), imagine multi-tiered scenario plans and get mentally prepared for however this plays out.

I have also consulted with alternative medicine resources (thank you dearest Whitney!) to start educating myself on parallel naturopathic therapies to compliment the "western" approaches I'll be using, have spoken to kind and generous friends who have been through journeys similar to this and shared some of their learnings and blessings, have been writing "morning pages", and generally trying to do what feels right, healthy and productive. I already feel like I am finding a rhythm to the waves of acquiring and processing and sitting-with information that will propel me throughout this journey.

For those of you (you know who you are!) who want me to get down to brass tacks, my actual diagnosis is a "moderately differentiated infiltrative ductal carcinoma and ductal carcinoma in situ". (This is a slight revision for some who I talked to) This means that it is medium-crazy on the scale of how crazy the cancer cells look under the microsope, and that part of it is sort of self contained and hasn't broken out and started making cells around it look crazy, but there is one area where it is affecting cells around it. It is hormone-fed, but her2 negative (see this if you're interested in all that). This last part seems to be looked upon as good news. And,the whole area this is happening is 3mm by 6mm, which is, by one of my nurse's standards, "itty bitty".

To recap: small area of breast cancer, which seems to be local to one spot on one breast (ol' lefty) and a slow growing type that responds well to hormone therapy. That's kinda all I got right now and wow, it feels like a lot for today.

Naturally, there is still a lot more to tell and rest assured I'll get into it soon. I did finally see my surgeon today, and though there is still a ton unknown -tests with results not yet clear and still a couple tests to do- we are officially under way in terms of getting me to a place where I can tell you about treatment plans. Somehow this piece being outstanding seems to be what makes all of us anxious.

Thanks for letting me lay it on you like this, and preemptively for the love and energy you're gonna be sending my way in the coming weeks. You guys know that giving has always been a bit easier than taking for me, so this is a good opportunity for me to just roll over and accept the cosmic healing rays.

I've also had some passing wonderings if my lack of secrecy about it is not such a good thing and have ultimately decided that it could neither be bad nor good; it is just how I am choosing to negotiate this weird new World Order of Hilary.

Feel free to respond back in any way you like, whenever. Certainly does not need to be confined to the text box below.