Updates & Gratitude

 It’s been quite a year and now we are at the halfway mark… 

Time is a thief.

I have had some massive successes and some equally terrifying smacks with reality. I guess that’s really life though. 

The successes- January I took my weight health into my own hands and as of today I am down 67lbs. This is a number I never thought I could achieve, a body I thought had long forgotten who she was… and slowly (and quickly) we are finding each other again.

Through Covid and after I had some really hard emotional setbacks in life. I lost some dear family members, and my sweet Delilah Jones who had been my furry soul mate for 18 years. Unlucky for me, I have always been an emotional eater and with all the trauma and loss things quickly spiraled out of control. I had put too much weight on my small body frame and my knees and back were really paying the price. I knew in my heart if I didn’t take drastic action, I was heading down a road that would affect my health in a really negative way. 

6 months post op, I feel incredible. I have days where I do much better than others, but in general I have quite literally taken my life back. I have never been so grateful to have found my fearlessness again. 

This was not an easy road. It’s still not an easy road, but man it’s WORTH it. 

I am worth it. 

Scary set backs- irregular mammograms in my world are terrifying. Especially at my current age, the exact age that my mother was diagnosed with Stage 4 metastatic breast cancer. 

After 3 unpleasant stereo biopsies, I now know I will have surgery on the right breast to remove a cube of tissue that includes pre-cancerous cells. 

This journey by far has been the most taxing on my mental and emotional state. I have been digging deep into every ounce of what I’ve learned through my therapy sessions to ground myself and not let my mind spiral out of control. I will NOT die at 50. I will not repeat the cycle.

The good news is that this is very early on, and best case scenario for a high risk patient with my familial history. Something I repeat to myself a lot. lol 

What this year has done for me is force me to slow down, live in the moments, and enjoy every minute of sunshine, flowers, snuggling with my cats, spending time with loved ones, making time for myself (which is usually digging into my TBR list - like grandfather like granddaughter 😂) 

It’s reminded me of how resilient we are as humans, and that we can make the decision to not break. We can choose to dig deep and be stronger than we knew we were capable of. 

So while there have been moments that I’m hanging on by a thin piece of worn thread, there have also been moments where I’m standing atop the mountain looking out ahead to this beautiful life, and not back to the scary climb. 

Bring on the rest of the year, 

Happy June and HAPPY PRIDE. 

More…

Where to begin…

Laying out the facts or spilling the feelings and emotions that are vibrating beneath my surface….

Maybe a little of both here. 

Some facts:

I’m having a second surgical biopsy Tuesday on my left breast. 

Once results are back, I will have surgery to remove the pre-cancerous ADH cells. No this isn’t a mastectomy, it’ll be a cube of tissue surrounding the ADH cells along with them, that gets cut out and sent to pathology. 

Pathology does their thing, the hope is that the surrounding tissue of the ADH cells is clear, and not cancerous. If that is the result, I’ll be back to my regularly scheduled screenings and MRI’s.

If the tissue around the ADH cells is cancerous, then that’s a new discussion and a new plan. One that I am truly not ready for. 

So I’ll be honest, I am absorbing only what I can emotionally manage right now. My cancer PTSD is buzzing under my skin threatening to surface and break me. 

I won’t break though. I have this weird sense that I would know in my soul if something was to that point.

Or….I'm in full denial and this is how I’m coping. 😂

Sometimes it’s hard to breathe, this feels so big.

Sometimes I feel silly for feeling such big feelings when it’s not actually cancer.

I’m not sure how to allow myself to fully sink into that worry, when women are literally battling for their lives with real cancer, dying from actual cancer. Not a form of pre-cancerous cells that have been caught early enough to not threaten my life… yet. 

I’m a ping pong ball of rational and irrationality. Sometimes it’s by day, sometimes it’s by minute. 

I’ve become slightly obsessed with plants, they take my mind off things - they give me something to fuss over, something to learn about and nurture. Watching something grow before your eyes, and helping it thrive is a lovely feeling in a world that feels like complete and utter chaos.

To the ones who keep me upright, where would I be without you? I truly have no idea. My love and gratitude for the support is endless. 

Be With Me

 To all my angels who watch over me, be with me today.

To the generations of spirits who walk the immortal path by my side, hold my hand through this. 

The anticipation and unknown maybe my undoing. 

I am facing this with every ounce of strength that my little body holds, encompassing all the bravery I have watched each one of you exhibit in the worst of times emanating from my soul.

I have spent a month keeping my brain and worry in check. Working overtime to create more space for the rational side to shine through with her checks and balances and spreadsheets and research. 

Outward I am the portrait of positivity and calm, inside I am messy, and worried, and trying to not play worst case scenarios on a loop.

I had a front row seat to this in my twenties, and I’m not looking to revisit that trauma especially in the first person. 

To my mom who battled this all, non stop for half a decade- be my strength.

To my uncle who faced everything facts first with wit and humor, be my rational joy.

To my grandpa who survived in a failing body for years and years with a mind sharp as knife, please be my wisdom.

If there is a way to reach between time and space may we find that magic today, so you can be with me. ♥️

ADH, and what’s to come …

 I just wanted this to be over…. 

I’ve said that a lot in the past week, I am feeling it deep in my core, yet I can’t will it to be true.

My results came back, and the news wasn’t terrible (so they tell me) but in my overworked brain, the news also isn’t great. 

I have what are called ADH cells in my right breast. They aren’t cancer, yet but generally they turn into cancer if not detected right away. 

Freaking awesome. 

Get these things out of me. 

Like NOW.

Why is there so much waiting around a disease that takes two lives each minute in the US?? You would think things would move at warp speed. 

Ok let me backtrack and gather the science before my run away train brain leaves the station and ends up stressing us all out more. 

Atypical Ductal Hyperplasia cells are associated with an increased risk for breast cancer and therefore classified as high risk lesion but not precursor lesion. 

So again, not breast cancer, yet… but if left undetected/untreated that is likely the outcome of cells of this type. 

I have a consultation with a surgeon for next steps in a week. Within these two weeks I have been and likely will continue going round and round emotionally and mentally preparing for the worst. 

But hey, a boob job down the road might be nice since age and gravity are not cooperating members of my age bracket.

Prepping for worst case scenarios is my survival mode, always has been. As long as I am prepared for the devastating outcomes, when they don’t happen I’m pleasantly surprised lol. 

Self torture with a side of mellow drama please.

Yes I am mentally prepping to remove parts of my body that may, long term, try to kill me; or at the very least make me incredibly sick.

I’ve seen it in real time, I know the cost associated with this unnatural disease. If I am being honest I swore I would never go through treatment knowing what I know, living through what I lived through. 

See- runaway train pulling out of the station at high speed.

Deeeep breaths. 

We aren’t there. 

I also have an appointment for the BRCA genetic testing that I have been putting off for 17 years (straight out of fear of the results) but now it seems like my age, genetics, hormones, and life are shoving me through that doorway fear or not. 

I am brave. I am brave. I am brave.

To all the women in my life: my strong, beautiful, bold, independent, loving, nurturing and all the other incredible things that you are- PLEASE put your health first. PUT OFF NOTHING.

Get the mammograms, the biopsies, the genetic testing… our bodies seem to work against us (along with the patriarchy- how fun!) and we need to be our own advocates just as we are the loud advocates for our loved ones.

I wanted this to be over, but it’s not.

 It feels like I have a road ahead of me that I knew would eventually walk. Not sure how graceful I feel, but I am clenching the good news part of this journey in my hot little fist with all my strength, leaning on my people, venting to the ears who will listen and eyes who will read as things unfold.

Promises Kept

 I made the decision last summer to devote myself to… myself.

To my health. Mental and physical. 

Like everyone I have trauma and loss, and at 45 these things have piled up and I refuse to let them swallow me whole. 

So I made a promise to myself to take an active part in healing my mental and physical health. It’s funny, I feel like while I’m wildly independent, I have been a passenger in my own life for decades. Letting what happens define me, mold me, teach me… but I haven’t been the leader here, I’ve been the follower of my circumstances.

In January I had surgery.

 I took my unfortunate genetics into my own hands after battling my weight for most of my adolescent and adult life. It was the best decision I have ever made for myself.

 I showed up for me. 

 I fought for me. 

And 3 months later I feel more me than I think I have in 25 years. 

Go me. 

Early April I went in for my yearly Mammogram. If you know me personally, you know my mom lost her battle to breast cancer at 50 years old after a long hard fought 5 years. What that means in the breast cancer world is that I am high risk and have been getting yearly mammograms since I was 36. So basically I’m a pro at this point.

I got the call back- “we see some irregular calcifications, we want more imaging” 

Crap. 

No, ok… I got this. Fear of this day will not eat me alive. I’m strong, brave, and fearless (mostly). 

I went in for my second imaging. After approximately one million images the doctor came in. “I’m recommending a biopsy. You’re high risk and we don’t want to take chances. I’m also referring you to the Breast Cancer Center for all future imaging as well as yearly MRI’s” 

Brave.

Fearless.

I will not break over this. 

Yesterday I went in for a biopsy which was very far from what I had anticipated it would be.

Emotionally, it was traumatic. And this is not the fault of the incredible women who took care of me all morning, because they were kind and gentle and talked me through every single step. It actually didn’t even hurt that much. 

The trauma lies with my past, and it keeps threatening to take me down. 

After all the collections were done in both sites on one side, they patched me up, glued me together, and said 3-4 business days I would have results.

So here I sit in these emotions…

Not feeling brave or fearless… but trying like hell to cling to the stubbornness that runs through my familial veins. 

I have no idea what is going to happen, which is my least favorite place to be. I’m a control freak, I have plans A-Z lined up for every facet of my life. I don’t like to live in the unknown, does anyone?? 

Thankfully through the last year with my incredible therapist, I have worked on sitting with things. We’re breaking down my advanced compartmentalization way of not coping, and teaching me to feel things as they come. I’ll be honest, this isn’t my favorite thing to do. I have more important things in life to spend my time thinking about, right? 

No. 

I made a promise to myself. 

Mental and physical health, we face each thing as they come. 

No more boxes filled with trauma that threaten to burst open when more than one thing hits me at once reminding me of a past that tried to eat me alive. No more secret closets with my true feelings and emotions packed away, waiting for the right time.

Nervous.

Anxious.

But still brave… and waiting. 

Who knew self devotion could be so hard? 

Here’s to driving my own bus, and not being a passenger in this life. Tomorrow is never promised, make today beautiful. 

44 - A Letter to Myself

 44, huh… 

It’s been a pretty incredible life so far. Some of the most beautiful highs that a life has to offer, and some of the hardest lows that I pray I never have to see again.

This last year though, shoot, the last 4 years if I am being honest, those have left some marks. Some emotional scars that I am still healing from; that I’m trying to mold into the smirks and room lighting smiles that I hold close to my heart, into love.

But first, let me thank you for fighting you way out and being an amazing advocate for your own mental health. Giiiiirl, those signs are hard to see and those steps are steep to climb, but you did. You SO did, and here we are today, more ourself than maybe we ever have been. (A special thank you to my rocks, actually you’re more like boulders who supported me to taking those steps)

Maybe that’s why a lot of the last two years have hurt so deeply; you finally learned to not run from your pain, the grief that used to swallow you whole. You dug your feet deep into the sand and stayed to face storm after storm. 

So today is deep breath day. Deep, thankful, cleansing rebirth, breath day where we slowly breathe out all of that hurt, and breathe in every single memory that keeps us warm and makes us smile.

44, and this is the year! 

Soon we will be basking in the velvet seas of Mexico, sharing in beautiful groove after groove, smiling until our face hurts.

Then off to Italy, the YOLO trip of a lifetime. (Seriously do not wake me from that simulation)

If 19 year old Tatum knew what open possibilities there were for her in this world, she may have been a little less angry, less bitter. I’m grateful for 30 year old Tatum who helped smooth those splintered corners and harsh surfaces, thankful for 40 year old Tatum who told us all to get our sh!t together because we know more than most, just how fleeting life is.

I look back, and I recognize every decade of my self. I remember every growing pain and every sweet lush grassy field on the other side of it and I do not plan on stopping.

So lady, here’s to 44. May she teach you the grace we are going to need when 44 becomes 50.

To all of you in my life, some near, but mostly far, my life is full and beautiful because you are in it. These experiences I have had, have never been alone; you have never let me feel alone. Not much gets better than that. 

So feel free to celebrate my birthday today, smile at a stranger, check in on a loved one, adopt an elderly cat, send random things in the mail to someone you miss(my go to move lol) - and thank you for being part of my world. 

Untitled Grief

 I have been watching my best friend die for the better part of the last year and a half. Watching her grow painfully thin, noticing her sleeping more, playing less and age greatly in front of my eyes.

My four legged sidekick of the past 18 years has hyperthyroidism, the medication that we give her for it, has given her renal disease and is destroying her kidneys.

I’m fighting a wildfire with lighter fluid and most days I don’t know what I’m even doing. 

Delilah Jones came into my life at a peculiar time. I was in my twenties, living in NH with two cats and not looking for a 3rd.

This runt of the litter found me, burrowed into my heart, connected her life force to my soul, and we never looked back. 

She was born in NH, lived in several towns in Mass, two towns (3 homes) in NJ, rode in a tiny little VW Golf all the way from Boston to San Francisco and continued her 9 lives in the city of Neverland for 5 years, to San Jose, then after an excruciating 9 hours in the VW Tiguan she lived a short stint in La Jolla to finally what we assume her final resting place is in our little home by the ocean in San Diego.

My little soul mate has not only traveled everywhere with me, but has lived through the absolute most difficult times of my life. 

   She also has been there for the most joyfully abundant and full of love times that I have experienced. 

Somewhere along our path she met Andrew, and for some reason she connected to him quickly. I’m not sure if she sensed my own feelings or just knew how special he is- but every time he would walk down into my room she would greet him, on my ugly pink office chair from ikea, perched up on her hind legs meowing for his attention (I feel that girlfriend) waiting for him to scratch her forehead and give her love.

This continued on until they became roommates and he was the 3rd wheel in our cozy bed. 

Later it evolved into her taking his meetings sitting on his shoulders licking his head as his coworkers tried to keep a straight face.

My girl always has always been the little attention lover.

We watch her sleep a lot these days.

A lot.

And while I watch her, I spend my quiet moments remembering her quirks, her loud raspy meows that we don’t hear much anymore….. how she loved to be snuggled but you got the 4 paw stiff arm if you picked her up. 

Her terms only…. I feel that too, love. 

The strong will to set boundaries, but also be open hearted.

Man that just defines my girl.

In 2013 I married my best friend, but my soul mate has 4 paws, brown fur, white paws, and the most gorgeous green eyes I have ever wandered into. 

I’m not sure if these ramblings are a tribute, grief… 

if it’s the words to the tears that fall down my face daily these days….

If you know me, if you know her then you get it. You know.

She’s such a beautiful soul that she’s turned cat haters into people who have loved her, dearly. 

Delilah Jones, her name from a Dead tune that’s always spoken to me…. Being a brown eyed woman, and all.

She has lived a legendary life. 

Queen bee of her home, )wherever it was, whoever home was….)

Master of sand paper kisses

Bard of raspy meows

Taster of all snacks

Chewer of stray fingers

Holder of hands, owner of my heart.

I am just not ready for you to go, but I can’t bear to make you stay….

They say grief is just love with no where to go, and I’m just not prepared to grieve forever