Here’s the deal.
On Halloween (2013), the goblins and monsters were out. Halloween was the day my breast donned the cancer costume. And so we dance.
I was diagnosed with invasive ductal carcinoma, which is the most common kind of breast cancer. I mean, not common when you’re in the young group— that’s under 45, folks— and even less so when you’re in the very young group— that’s under 35. I’m young in the very young group. The group that has a 1 in 6,000 chance of getting breast cancer. I beat out 5,999 other people to get here.
Since then, you folks want information. You ask what’s going on and what means what and how Sam and I are faring over here in cancerland. So that’s what this blog is about. I’ve always been a writer, and sometimes I’ve been a photographer, so here, I’ll do that from cancerland.
And yah, that’s Barbara Eirenreich’s word, cancerland. It seems fitting, so I borrow. It is, after all, a land that we move differently in, where we are imperiled by machines and mathematical calculations and an entirely mystifying orientation to the world. So, this is my cancerland.
I finished chemo in March of 2014. I had a mastectomy in May of 2014. And so far, so good. The cancer seems to be at bay, and that rocks. I am currently on hormone therapy to block the estrogen in my body, and, hopefully, keep me healthy for decades to come. I’ll be on these drugs for ten years- so I’ve got about nine more to go! I also work with naturopaths, art therapists, nutritionists, and other healers to make sure I’m as healthy as can be. And I do everything I can to support organizations doing the intensive political work to right our world, and to remove the toxins and other bad, cancer causing shit, from places, people, air, water, and food we are exposed to on a daily basis.