KEEP PERSPECTIVE-EVEN IF IT IS DELERIOUSLY INAPPROPRIATE. MAYBE JUST KEEP IT TO YOURSELF. 

I've lived with cancer in my body for over 8 years. I've lived with cancer, the clear and ever present danger for almost 35 years. I've gathered a few survival tidbits from experience and also the grievous realization that sometimes you can do everything right and it doesn't help and someone can do everything wrong and survive.  One reason, "right" is in the eye of the beholder. Another is that there are a lot of factors- like luck. I'm pretty sure luck may hinge on handwashing. I'm either the luckiest or unluckiest lady in the world. Depends on how you look at it. I see lucky. I feel unlucky a lot- but I look for the lucky. I can control that part.

DON'T DIE IF YOU CAN HELP IT

Before Christmas- I was pretty sure I was fastracked for the deathmobile. Six feet under, worm meat(I do want to be cremated for the record- no plot of earth needs the toxins that are in my cells, even after handwashing.) By Valentine's(our wedding anniversary) we had begun the long climb back up the ladder to marginal health when an abscess shoved me down again. And then there was CORONA. duh duh donnnn. Oh hell I just wanted to make it through birthday season- please don't let me f#@! up anyone's birthday by dying. Back to crowny viruses from hell. 

HAVING A TARGET ON YOUR BACK SUCKS- GO LIVE ANYWAYS

It seems to affect elderly and at risk most severely. RUFKM? That's like my entire circle. Family, friends- the lot.  I have a daughter away at college(a compulsive handwasher, fortunately), 2 at risk offspring at home and a husband with a very essential job. Which could mean...he's never home during yet another crisis- orrrrr he has income and healthcare during a pandemic.(perspective) Let's now consider my health status...not exactly lungalicious, despite making HUGE strides with the new chemo. BIG. I meant to share- because it's HEEEEEWGe. 

Feb. 26- Jacqui taps me an the shoulder in the chemo bay, my a$$ barely hit the chair- she's shuffling patients, my paperwork and what looks like possibly breakfast- Dr. K is already out the door halfway to the office. They are women on a mission. I HATE the scan results. I hate this. If I could move faster I would -just to get it over with. Jacqui handles shit- like a pro- when it hits the fan- for some reason it tends to hit the fan with me- she jumps in. She's on the exam table, Dr. K is pulling up the results. They are both dang near in tears. Oh Fuck. I knew this was bad. Soap will not wash my hands of this.

I try to process the images. The November image is on the right, the current image on the left on the screen. My brain wants desperately to process this. But there's so few spots on the left- surely that's an older older scan, I must be wrong. I go by how I feel- I feel like HELL. Jacqui laughs and hugs me-I think she's in shock. They were expecting a grand reaction and I let them down. Dr. K nods knowingly, she doesn't believe it. I want to. I really do. I kinda wanna go wash my hands. I look to Phil and back. I am speechless. 

I am far from No Evidence of Disease, but this response is phenomfuckingtastic. We have issues- more so than emotional. We have to stablize the progress without killing the rest of me- which is a delicate balance( mind you covid was a blip on our radar at this point)  and the delicate balance was crashing.  My spleen is EWWWWge. Yeah- that's a bi product of mono as a kid and the glamorous chemo lifestyle I've become accustomed to. Not due to lack of handwashing. My liver is enlarged and showing signs of cirrhosis. Well hell- if I knew that was gonna be on the table I definitely would have had those few extra drinks. The shortness of breath- not fixed by the pleural drain- can partially be attributed to my organs fighting for real estate. So I was treated to a double whammy prescription of waterpills. For about 2 weeks- I literally went to the bathroom every 7 minutes. I timed it. I did not want to be caught mid flight o stair  or sneeze at minute 6.   25 pounds of water weight - right down the toilet(see what I did there- that was a good thing- traditionally down the toilet is bad...) 

DON'T HOARD SHIT. IT'S JUST NOT COOL. IF YOU TAKE ONLY WHAT YOU NEED OTHERS WON'T FRICKING DECIDE FOR YOU WHAT YOU NEED.

We heard Corona was to be called COVID-19- annoying but understandable kinda like in mutnt land- p53 is the protein, TP53 is the gene. I was already vectoring how to get Kiera home from Denver- because mommy mode means I want to gather my family close. I'm considering taking the girls out of the public petri dish. No amount of handwashing can get that off. Phil tells me to hang in there. I was overreacting. I order toilet paper and make Kiera a care package of hand sanitizers, electronics, wipes, masks, gloves, and amazon the other nonshippables. Phil thinks I have completely gollumed.

Phil's experiences with impending disaster to the island revolves around jet ops. He watches me prepare with a mix of mysticism and ridicule. It's an ISLAND people! Yet I am so discouraged by the hoarding. I know so many big families, families with medical needs who could/can not get essentials.  Commodities are TOILET PAPER? I can see it when you are peeing every 7 effing minutes, yet we did not hoard and I told the kids to use paper products like they cared about the environment -now go wash your hands. The rate slowed, but still. I ordered wet bags and baby washcloths. After our trip to Europe, Phil installed a bidet upstairs- during chemo it's been a godsend. TMI- learn from the cancer people and the Europeans- HEEEWWWWWGGG takeways during this time. There are many ways to wipe- my cancer, military, nature friends know this. And when countries are dying from a virus- act people. Don't wait for it to reach your shores- because newsflash, it is already THERE. You can still make a difference.

ACCEPT THE GOOD LUCK, ROLL WITH THE BAD. 

I had no energy to clean or fight the kids to do it. Fortunately, I have help. Phil is an amazing leader, despite all the forces that be conspiring AGAINST allowing him to do what he's decided is best for his people. (I never said that) He has the balance of academy training, Guard time and living with the genetic fallout of what is my cess pool of heredity. He's also rational while I'm hopped up on anti-anxiety and pain meds. Hand washing. Our PACK families brought us meals and kept Lily healthy during rehearsals and performances. My Monica came and after quarantining herself for 2 weeks- is here making sure we eat, clean and don't die. The kids call her momica.  That's why I see luck. I am extraordinarily lucky in love and friendship. If you are reading this- YOU are one a coveted member of this elite yet notorious group. Thank you.

HELP IS A TWO WAY STREET. LOOK BEFORE YOU CROSS. 

 I had self isolated for months. The trick is isolating together. All these years of us being oddly not pro social are paying off. I get texts to see what we need- usually from friends whose needs way surpass ours and aren't getting met. My friend Angel stops by with med supplies and reminds me she has a respirator if shit gets real. She's spent almost 2 decades of living despite phenomenal medical hardships with her daughters. Friends from all around the world rally with cards and gifts for Kiera whose spending her first birthday away from home quarantined(WHY she is not home is another story...) after I suffered a near mommy meltdown- all I had to do was ask. Another friend gloriously ships me 3 masks, with a note: Finally something I can do to help. Wash hands. The coveted kind- immediately pushing aside any desire to sell them on the black market to pay for college. I would never- it's why I am unlucky in business. I'd give them away in a heartbeat. Monica and Phil ensure I won't and that I wear it to clinic. But how can I in good conscience wear this fancy mask when my staff and Phil's group and so many simply do NOT have the protection they need? And my mom reminds me: Please keep safe for you and your family. You are needed.  You are too.

Me: I am still weekly to clinic for treatment until things get so bad it's "too much" of a risk. I  hate statistics and effing risk v benefit is part of the 5w's. I'm down 35 pounds and wear leggings in public. Trick comment there- I don't GO in public- except to clinic- so there. I'm not on oxygen. I feel ok. It depends on the day. I love reconnecting with friends online- that is the biggest ray of sunshine in this pandemic. Weaned round the clock pain meds and finding the balance of comfort energy and stress. We are about 2-3 weeks behind the mainland surge- which puts our surge starting soon. I am slated to get my pleural drain out tomorrow(Friday) before I think he goes to the front lines. If I wasn't married to my soulmate, love of my life- McBreathey would have a TRO against me- I'm old enough to be one of his older sister's friends. mwahahaha. Kidding- I know my place- right behind the basin- scrubbing my hands while singing any song I want.  May the luck be with us all.