I don’t know what it has been…maybe this fucking pandemic, maybe it’s the fact that I turned 49 a few months ago, maybe I’m feeling stuck and it’s time for me to switch things up, but I’ve really been pondering my life’s purpose and I believe it’s been since my bout with breast cancer, or the course of the past year. So much so, that every time I sit down to write, design, cook, anything that draws from my creative side, it falls flat and I end up binging on something mindless. Part of my problem is my physical barriers, working 8 hours per day in retail wrecks havoc on my legs. I’d love to say it’s because of my injury, but that’s only part of the problem…but blah, blah, blah. We all have our own issues and get stuck or wonder if there’s something more.
About a month ago, I woke from a dream. It was wild. In this dream, I stood leaning on my friend’s deck overlooking his incredible view of the neighborhood park that is reminiscent of a rocky mountain plain with a stream running through it. As I enjoyed my coffee, taking in the suburban Denver air, I looked down below and saw a brown bear attacking his dog. In that instant, my maternal instincts (fur momma) kicked in and I ran down the ramp to the ground below. Not thinking of anything, but to get that sweet dog’s leg out of the mouth of the aggressor, I punched the bear in the nose. It opened it’s mouth in shock and let go. The pup and I ran up the ramp into the house safely. I woke. A couple of things came to mind, besides the obvious, “what did I eat before I went to bed?”
In that dream, I was mad fit taking on a bear…but even more than that, I was walking–NO, RUNNING–without a limp (I call it my gangsta limp) or limited ability. Also, I had no fear, but instead, complete instinct (as dumb as it might be in real life) to jump into action. The biggest question I had, was “where did this bear come from?” As I always do, I took to the Google and asked, “what does it mean to dream about a bear?” And of course, there were so many interpretations: from needing to find inner peace, to aggression, to a threat in your life. However what resonated most was this, “seeing a grizzly bear means you are able to face your biggest fears. It may be the time for a positive transformation and resolving problems that have been bothering you for a long time,” from DreamingAndSleeping.com
After that dream, I knew I needed to get unstuck, but what did I want to do? I love that my day job affords me the opportunity to do what I love, assisting people feel comfortable, confident and beautiful. I am grateful that it gives me the opportunity to pursue my passion project, Hopeless + Cause Atelier, and have financial stability and health care, so I struggle when I complain about the constant sales goals, pressured stretch goals and working weekends/holidays. I started reading “The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*CK”, by Mark Manson, again. The premise is not to give up caring about everything, but instead fine tuning and honing in on what you care about. Focus on that.
So…
A couple of weeks later, I applied to Austin Fashion Week. I showed Hopeless + Cause Atelier in May 2017 and with the craziness in my personal life at the time, I was so grateful how well they seamlessly produced this show that it eased my stress and as you can see for yourself in the link below how flawless the runway looked.
I decided I’d create a small capsule collection of seven looks to ease my way back into the circuit but really because of my budget and lack of time with my work load. Usually, my design aesthetic is influenced by what’s happening around me either personally or worldly. This hasn’t been the case until last week, I took off some time from work to start designing but I had no ideas about fabric, cohesive theme, or even color scheme.
Last Sunday, I had lunch with my friend Denise. We opted to go to El Pinto, a staple in the North Valley and just down the road from where I grew up. It was the ending day for Balloon Fiesta and it was filled with tourists and families enjoying brunch. As the restaurant takes pride in growing their own ingredients, it made me think about growth and harvesting our own fruits (talents, dreams, whatever you’d like to fill in the blank with).
After our lovely conversation and meal, I decided to stop by my local JoAnn’s fabric shop, since I would be unable to get to NYC or LA for fabric before the show. And just like that, inspiration hit. I would play with a palette of harvest colors.
In my Hopeless + Cause Atelier garden, I am harvesting blueberry, olive, oat, pumpkin and raspberry. And as with all my designs, look out for the unexpected details
I will be showing Hopeless + Cause Atelier in Austin, TX on Sunday, November 13, 2022 and I’m excited that Ang will be joining me. I hope you will following along in this journey via Instagram: HopelessCauseAtelier. And if you’ve got a great upbeat song (your “up-to-bat” or “strut down the runway” song), I need some new songs in my sewing repertoire, and you never know which might make it to the runway (thanks to those of you who already contributed). You can contribute or hear them HERE.
This is my first step on the path of Paris Fashion Week, September 2023 for SS24. I am tired of life getting in the way. I have booked another 36 hour trip to NYC in December because I couldn’t get through the year without visiting my soul place. I’ve started a 30-day yoga program to hopefully help with the muscle strength and flexibility especially going into the retail holiday season. I’ve started looking and applying for positions that draw on my creative skills, unless I can an incredible book deal on my crazy life…LOL!
It’s been too long since I’ve written, and boy did it feel good to get back to it. I hope you’ve enjoyed it and hope to see you in person soon. Here’s to existential crisis helping us to fine tune our focus.
“When God took Eve from Adam, He did not take her from his head to be lorded over him, nor from his foot to walked upon by him. He took her from from his side to walk with him, from beneath his arm to be guarded by him, and from near his heart to be loved by him.”
Fr. Mike Schmitz, The Bible in a Year Podcast, Spotify
Hi everyone, it’s been about a month and a half since I last wrote, and so many people have told me how much they enjoyed and have missed my blog, so that encouraged me to talk about what’s been happening lately. It’s rarely a dull moment around here…so here I go again (“I don’t know where I’m goin’, But I sure know where I’ve been, Hanging on the promises in songs of yesterday, And I’ve made up my mind. I ain’t wasting no more time. Here I go again.” Whitesnake…and I know I just dated myself).
I received the much anticipated “return to work notice” for Tuesday, April 12th and even before my first day back I already I had appointments scheduled to support the American Heart Association’s Go Red for Women luncheon and fundraiser and a backlog of appointments from friends and clients who had been patiently awaiting my return (thank you!). For a couple of weeks prior, I had been slowly getting out of the house, doing my own grocery shopping, and visiting with loved ones. I can’t tell you how hard it was to not be independent and reliant on so many people to get my basic needs met, but boy, am I blessed by the support I received.
I had planned to see the rescheduled Helmet concert on Saturday, April 9th with one of my BFFs, Kristen. However, after much consideration and the fact that it was at the Sunshine Building downtown (dealing with downtown parking, a dark space and drunken folk around me, I opted not to go, sorry Kristen and sorry uncle Kent). I instead decided to go out of town….because I’m a travel addict who needed her fix and I wasn’t sure when I’d get out of town again in the near future. I chose Denver because I absolutely love the scenic drive between Albuquerque and Denver, because it was an opportunity to spend some time with my cousin Tana and celebrate her March birthday, and to maybe catch up with my friend, Storm. I had a free hotel stay, so my only concern was having to put gas. My car’s gas tank is on the passenger side and I’d have to pull out my scooter to put gas (since I was still in a cast which meant hopping on one foot without the scooter), but I convinced myself to not let that be a barrier.
I arrived at the hotel about 5pm. The plan was to have Tana meet me there and we’d head out to dinner. I originally booked a fun place I had patronized, when Lee and I visited back in October. After thinking about it, I suggested something a little closer, and made a reservation at a place she had been wanting to try. She arrived to my hotel room about 6:30pm and we headed out. We had a great evening filled with food, wine and conversation. I invited her to join me in going over to Storm’s, but she already had a long day so she politely declined.
When I arrived at Storm’s and saw him looking for me out the window while I searched for his home and he greeted me outside, Storm took me to the backyard (because he knew I wouldn’t be able to navigate his multilevel home in my cast and scooter), and once I reached the back, Bear was there anticipating my arrival. When I saw him and his friend Luna, I said, “Hi Bear” and he whined and his 120+ body jumped 2″ off the ground. That made me so extremely happy! It also made me realize, I only want people in my life that are that excited to see me…life is short and WAY TOO FLEETING to be greeted any other way. It was even better when we went indoors. I scooted in, greeting Storm’s roommate and feeling horrible, interrupting their scheduled evening. I sat down on his loveseat and Bear sat right next to me, not giving anyone else the opportunity to do so. I asked if I was invading his territory and when told, “no”, I sat back. As the night progressed, Bear moved in and snuggled close while resting his head on my thighs. I learned finally (after how many years?!?), exactly how I wanted and deserved to be treated by a beautiful six year old. If and when I fall in love, it will be because I feel this excitement, comfort, closeness and protection. It was the awakening I needed. I spent the rest of the evening enjoying the company of Storm and his daughter and of course, Bear. I drove back to Albuquerque the next morning.
I had my follow up podiatrist appointment that Monday, and the cast came off. The Imperial Storm Trooper boot came on. The x-ray showed that I was healing as expected so I could return to work. I knew this would be difficult, but I was excited to get back. Upon my return, I had event after event, starting with Go Red for Women, the annual fundraiser for the American Heart Association. I had planned a Sip and Shop with the United Way’s Women United affinity group before my accident so I rescheduled it for my return. I had also committed to help with the Family Friendly Business Awards, plus TV and radio segments. All this while trying to fit in as many client appointments as possible, since I had missed out on six weeks of sales. But the most important thing happening during this time, was Brianna and Isaiah’s wedding. It seemed like so far away and yet only a couple of weeks after I returned.
I was fortunate to get into Physical Therapy (aka Pain and Torture) right away. On my first day, I was asked my goals. After thinking about it, I stated them. My first goal would be the mother-son dance on April 30th. Second, I have a deep need to return to NYC soon, so I want to be able to walk my city again (3 to 11 miles daily). Third, I want to hike my mountain again and if I can get over the mental barrier, run again (don’t get it twisted; I still hate running). So we got to work, at the facility and I continued that work with exercises at home. I definitely had a check off list between what was happening at work, my PT, and preparing for a wedding. I had this beautiful red dress planned for the wedding, but sadly because of my sedentary recovery period, it didn’t fit, so I was on a hunt for a new dress. When working with my clients, I make sure they are outfitted beautifully weeks if not months in advance…when outfitting myself, it’s typically the day of or day before. All that matters, is that I found the one, right?!?
Soulmates come from friends too, it’s not just about romance. Sometimes it’s your best friend that makes you feel whole and understands you most when the world doesn’t understand you at all.
Sylvester McNutt III
My friends reminded me again that soulmates don’t always come from romantic relationships but instead those who envelope you into their arms and walk side-by-side with you. A few of my dearest ones, showed up in support of the wedding festivities and helped me get through those days. We had an incredible time celebrating the groom and bride. I danced, awkwardly of course, laughed and cried. I even shared a few words of advice. I had dinner alone with my son the Thursday before the wedding. I am blessed that we have a good relationship and I know that won’t change, but was that moment when my son is leaving to become one with his wife so I needed time just the two of us to relish what an incredible gift my baby is to me and the bride he has chosen to bring into this family.
And just like that, I went from enjoying such a joyous few days to having a heavy heart. If you have not heard or read, Northern New Mexico is experiencing an unprecedented event with the Hermits Peak/Calf Canyon fire. I have been watching the fire maps continuously over the past week, reaching out to family members to understand what they’ve heard and to friends who have family that live in the Las Vegas/Mora areas. Many have reached out to me asking about my family ranch. While no one lives there full time, it is our family historic home. The Ranch house is over 150 years old. My mom and grandpo are buried hillside and it simply is God’s country. I have written about it here, www.hopelesscauseatelier.com/everlong, if you’d like to read for yourself. I know structures can be rebuilt and the flora will grow again, but still it hurts my heart to think of the history and beauty lost.
After hearing the weather reports, stating that winds would be up to 60 mph, I checked the fire maps periodically on Mother’s Day. The fire line was about a mile away from the Ranch. When I awoke this morning, I had a text from my aunt which had been relayed from my uncle stating the fire did pass over the ranch and is headed east. I jumped onto the fire map and cried at the realization. In that moment, it made me think of all the wonderful memories…birthdays, family reunions, picking out Christmas trees, and most recently a snowy February…but I think my favorite memories are when working side-by-side next to my family building bridges and structures, working, laughing and feeling like a bad ass creating something. We may have a lot of rebuilding ahead of us, but for now I am praying feverishly that it was spared, and I hope I will be able to out in a few weeks, walking on my own to survey the land.
The red is the fire line—images are less than a day apart 🙁 Evacuation Map
Sometimes I feel helpless, like I’m on the sidelines…then I remember you can do SO much from the side. Hope and love is found there. I guess I’ve learned a lot about love in the past month and a half. How love is born from the side, near your heart and under your protective arm to be by your side…from a six year old, from soulmates, from familiar and romantic love and love of the life given to you. I hope all is wonderful in your world. Until next time, I hope you will enjoy this version of Purple Rain by Eddie Vedder & the Earthlings, it’s the melancholy goodness needed right now.
Oh, my life is changing everyday In every possible way And oh, my dreams It’s never quite as it seems Never quite as it seems
Dreams, The Cranberries
A month and a half ago, I decided to escape to my family ranch in Mora, NM. It is the place I retreat to if I can’t get away to NYC. Believe it or not, it has the same powers of NYC in recharging my spirit. This time I decided to invite a high school friend that I had recently reconnected with. As I awaited his arrival, I sat in the kitchen trying to get a fire started when I saw the decks of cards. One of the ways we, as children, learned to pass the time, especially in the evenings when there was no tv, was to play solitaire. As I waited for the kitchen to warm up, I pulled a deck of cards, shuffled them and started laying out the game: 1-2-3-4-5-6-7, 2-3-4-5-6-7, 3-4-5-6-7, 4-5-6-7, 5-6-7, 6-7, and 7. If you’ve never played, I was taught to set up the game this way with each column’s end card facing up. Then you take the remaining deck and flip over every third card to try to use it. The premise on the main game board is to build back and forth black and red (or vice versa) from king to ace. Then to win you build on top of the game ace to king in the same suite (ie: diamonds, spades, clubs and hearts). It had been a few years, so I was quite rusty and I found myself restarting a few times before he arrived and I put it away.
It’s been quite some time since I sat down to write about the happenings within the Atelier. When I last wrote, I was on a high after the Hispano Chamber of Commerce’s business event that included some new designs from Hopeless + Cause Atelier. This year has already been an eventful year, personally and professionally. As I recover from one more surgery, I thought it was the perfect inspired moment to share what’s happening in this fashioned life.
I last wrote about my participation in the Albuquerque Hispanic Cultural Center’s fashion show, the exhilaration of being inspired to create again and especially to showcase that work to a local audience. The following Monday after the show, I had an email from a writer with Albuquerque the Magazine. I was intrigued thinking she saw my work that that show, to my surprise, she hadn’t. Instead she subscribes to the same FB group I do, and when a fellow creative tagged me on a post, she researched my work, was curious to learn more and pitched the idea to her editor for the creatives section of the magazine.
I also received an email from one of my favorite non-profits, Locker #505, to showcase my designs in their fashion fundraiser. Since the event was scheduled for mid-January and it wasn’t possible for me to create 10 new looks during the height of retail season (November-December), I decided to use past designs in a cohesive story. I reached out to some of my favorite collaborators to model for the event. It had been the first time in a couple of years, that I’d be participating in a full-fledged fashion show. It was also the place my career and passion project would collide as I would be styling the Prom segment with Macy’s fashion.
Albuquerque Journal, Monday, January 24, 2022, PC: Adolphe Pierre-Louis
This was such a fabulous event. I was on a high again. One of the photographers from Albuquerque the Magazine was there, and while I didn’t want photos of me, just of the models wearing the fashion, he did get a number of behind the scenes shots. I think I was feeling so good because it was a hint of the world opening up again and the hope of a return to some sort of normalcy. Oh but life has other ideas.
On Wednesday, February 2, 2022, I had my follow up appointment with my plastic surgeon. I had it in my mind that I’d have reconstruction scheduled sometime in March so I’d be healed in time for Isaiah & Brianna’s wedding at the end of April. I was both nervous and excited going into this appointment. Instead of opting do have reconstruction via implant, I chose to use my own tissue which entails a longer recovery period and a few days in the hospital. As I sat down with my doctor, she informed me that she is merging her practice with UNM Cancer Center. She mentioned that this move may make it easier for my insurance to approve this surgery. However, she couldn’t schedule my surgery until after the June move, so sometime in July or August. All I heard was, “another summer I’d be missing out on.” I left a little bummed.
Later that afternoon, I had a zoom call with my family and the doctors taking care of my grandma, who had been admitted to the hospital weeks before. Her medical team wanted to talk about the next steps whether rehabilitation center, hospice or home healthcare. This was a result of a fall just a few weeks before caused by a stroke. It was hard to hear and I was grateful I was in my cave and that my microphone on my tablet didn’t work because I was bawling. The family decided she needed to be in her home so agreed for home healthcare. I went on with the afternoon and had a long planned dinner date with Ang when the snow came down. It quickly turned to ice so we canceled. Four hours later, I made it home.
I was so excited to head to the ranch that weekend. I just needed to escape work, social media, everything around me. There was fresh snow, clear skies and deep conversations around the fire. I cooked and cooked and cooked. We went on walks. We made it up the hill to where my mom and grandfather were buried. I told the history of my family and this place and when I returned home, resolved that it wasn’t time for me to have surgery and I needed to get back to planning life. I needed that weekend…I needed my family home…I needed my mom to remind me of that.
I got back to Albuquerque and got back to work. Macy’s was the designated outfitter for the annual La Noche Encantada gala and I was the official stylist. Which means appointments and a prerecorded TV segment. I was planning a shop and sip event for Women United members and my clients. I started making the plan to outfit the community models for Go Red for women. I was planning to attend an event for Make-a-Wish with my store manager, and had an important birthday to celebrate, when after another February snow, I decided that Coco and I needed to go for our morning walk in the winter wonderland. I bundled up, plugged in my earphones into my iPhone, put on Coco’s lease and we headed out. As we hit the golf course, I paused and took photos of the beauty in front of me. We started out again, and as she does, she pulled. I pulled back trying to slow her down. I slide my left ankle turned and I fell, releasing her leash. I sat in the snow and I’m sure said, “oh FUCK”.
Coco went on to explore and chase the geese yards away. I sent a text to my minis and my brother…knowing they were probably on their way or already at work. Cati responded immediately telling me she was at home with COVID. And in that instant, my phone died. I was yelling for Coco to return, thinking about my trek most likely crawling back to my casita when my neighbor came out to see if I was okay. I said I think I broke my ankle. 911 was called on my behalf and the biggest scene ensued (I felt horribly embarrassed). Coco would go explore, come back and check to make sure I was still there and then go back out again, until the fire truck arrived. AFR walked up and Coco started barking and snapping at them. I told her to knock it off and once they started saying her name, she thought they were there for her. At first they tried to be my human crutches but ended up having to carry me back to my casita. Propped up on my recliner, they started taking my vitals and asking what happened. Some people get hurt doing something sexy like, skiing or snowboarding or in some sort of horrific accident. I get hurt walking. Cati arrived freaked out because she wasn’t able to get a hold of me and shortly there after my brother arrived.
After an ambulance ride to the ER, I was grateful to see a friend on duty. The team took great care of me, took x-rays, and released me just before noon. They called in a prescription for pain meds. Cati picked me up with my leg in splint and crutches. Within the first few hours, I knew they wouldn’t work so I made a Facebook request for a knee scooter and my friend Michelle accepted the request. The next day I met with a podiatrist. I had a Trimalleolar fracture–it was broken in three places so surgery was scheduled for February 25th. This wasn’t the surgery I was planning for but it is what it is. And the saddest part, by that afternoon the snow was all melted (welcome to NM…lol).
And here is where I’ve been ever since. I’m not going to lie or sugar coat it. This has sucked. Both prior surgeries, were rough but I could walk, drive my car and it didn’t take so much for me to get even the easiest of activities done. I was pretty depressed early on because I had to send my regrets in going to my dear friend Lalaine’s birthday and the Make-a-Wish event. I was super bummed that I wasn’t going to be able to go to Denver to celebrate my dear friend’s milestone birthday as I had planned when we were at the ranch. Then I remind myself, it could be worse. Right now there are people fleeing their homes with the clothes on their back and others loosing their life defending their country and everything they hold dear and I’m reminded to be grateful. I am so grateful for my minis, my family, and my dear friends who not only checked on me, but picked up groceries, took me to appointments, brought me flowers, meals and care packages, but most importantly got me out of the house.
The only redeeming thing that happened during this time was that the March issue of Albuquerque the Magazine was released. I got a copy and I absolutely love the article written about me. It’s the most concise history of Hopeless + Cause Atelier and how I got to be where I am. I haven’t been able to show outside of Albuquerque since 2019, but I have to say it’s pretty special to recognized in this way in your hometown.
Dozens of individuals were reaching out to help with their attire for the gala. I provided shoppable look books and placed orders for some and for the ones I couldn’t help in the store referred to my colleagues for assistance. I’ve been feeling helpless and uneasy about my return to work. I spend 80% of my time on my feet, walking throughout the store pulling inventory and returning it after appointments. I was not in a good place and learned rather quickly how difficult it is to not be able to walk.
The plan was to go with Ang to the gala even if it was just for the dinner portion. I needed to get out. I needed to get dressed up and to feel beautiful, because I wasn’t feeling it. So we had a plan, I outfitted her, ordered my dress and begged Cati to do my make up. My friend, Leola, made sure I had a glamorous splint by picking up sparkly material for me. I found out I could sew on my machine balance on one foot. My date and I were dressed to the nines. I decided to wear a wig in the theme of the gala — SPACE: Launching a Bold Tomorrow — but more so, to distract everyone from my scooter.
It was a powerful lesson on the lack of support for those who utilize assistance in their mobility. The event was in the convention center and parking was under Civic Plaza. I found that the easiest entrance to the center was steps, which I couldn’t climb, so when we tried the two elevators to get to ground level, they didn’t work. Angela had to drop me off and then go back, park and meet me at ground level. I found that the electronic doors openers, didn’t work or those doors were locked, and there were cables and layers of carpeting that made obstacles of my path, but I loved being there.
When people say I look like Cati, I normally correct them saying, she looks like me, but in this instance I look like her and my heart is happy!!!!
My plan worked. People did a double take when they saw me and initially didn’t notice the scooter as they were trying to figure out who I was. It was a wonderful evening seeing people who I hadn’t seen in what felt like years (and some it was before the pandemic). I even danced (well, I moved my booty and arms–especially guarding around me so no one bumped my leg). It was a night I think this community needed.
I haven’t been inspired or motivated to write and I really don’t know what has been that block. I started thinking about that Saturday afternoon and playing Solitaire again, and it provided some clarity. When I think I am in this alone, like the game of solitaire which is a game for one person to play, I am reminded that it is not one card played, but instead the hand played and how those cards can help you to achieve that end result. Sometimes they do and sometimes you have to fold and try again. And, I’m reminded how cathartic writing is for me. Thanks for reading.
I want more, impossible to ignore Impossible to ignore And they’ll come true Impossible not to do Possible not to do
On February 22, 2021, I announced that I was taking a hiatus from the atelier as I addressed my recent breast cancer diagnosis. A week ago, Hopeless + Cause Atelier returned to the runway as part of the Hispanic Heritage Month Awards presented by the Hispano Chamber of Commerce and while I was anxious, I was so happy to return to this space.
The call came two weeks before I was to travel to NYC and Portland. I received the call from my friend, Shannon, she shared that the chamber wanted to focus on fashion and the convergence of cultures in NM. I would represent the European Hispanic influence. I would create 4 looks for this event.
It was perfect timing as I was going to NYC and could find rich, luxurious materials for these designs and be inspired by the city in general. This four-day trip I would be spending with my KK. It was the first time we had traveled together in more than 2 years. The plan was to meet with producers to start planning for Paris Fashion Week and catch a few shows. However the universe had something more in mind as the city, and Fashion Week, wasn’t completely out of the pandemic and there weren’t the options for in-person shows as I had hoped.
Instead, we spent time exploring the city, getting our auras read, going to the immersive Van Gogh exhibit, and eating our way as we walked everywhere. I was so happy that my friend Heather and her daughter were visiting at the same time and that I could enjoy brunch with Amanda and Andy, they came into the city this round. I even volunteered on 9/11 with approximately 1,500 other people to make food boxes for the nearby food banks. It was a great sense of community. The weather was beautiful and the city was on track to being back to pre-pandemic visitor levels.
On our last day, we hit Mood and I saw beautiful fabrics but none were speaking to me so instead of purchasing them on that day, I took photos hoping something might ruminate in my mind for the perfect creation. We flew back that Monday evening, it was the perfect long weekend. Although, I didn’t want to leave. I was excited to be traveling the next day with my BF, Ang, to Portland.
We arrived in Portland around 6pm and checked into our hotel. Immediately I noticed the homelessness in city dotted by tents everywhere. Downtown where we were staying was also still reeling from the pandemic and the protests. Not much was open after 8pm and many building were still boarded up. In ways, it reminded me of a post apocalyptical small town vs a large metropolitan area.
Outside of Portland was absolutely gorgeous, we reserved a waterfalls, wine and mountain tour of the area and it did not disappointment. Our tour guide, who was not only local but educated in the rich history of the area and geography provided incredible insight to all we saw. The next days we explored Portland proper and on our last day visited Astoria. Traveling with me is always a Ms. Adventure as we took a commuter bus, stopping at every small town gas station along the way. We didn’t find the Goonies but had fun getting lost in the small quaint town.
These two trips were much needed after the non-existent summer I had. I was so happy to travel with Cati and Ang and spend quality time with them. We laughed, had deep conversations and explored the area we were visiting. It was a wonderful reprieve.
I returned home to the bustle of work, but still not entirely positive of my inspiration and what I would create for the show. I was also spending a day a week with my gram in her home. She is 91 years old, but ever since her bout with Bells Palsy my aunt Lisa, hasn’t felt comfortable with her staying at home alone. During the pandemic, Lisa was able to work from home but this summer she had to return to the office. Aunts, cousins and grandchildren took turns in spending the day with her. There were days filled with looking at photos, questions about who the people were, sitting outside and watching the birds or admiring the flowers. There were moments I would put on the mariachi station on Spotify and would make her lunch and take her flowers.
What a gift it is to care for the person that took such good care of me: the matriarch of my family, the woman whom I named my daughter, Catalina, after and my biggest supporter in life. I was now fully inspired to create.
A few weeks before the event, I got to work, balancing my day job, medical appointments (I opted to have my cosmetic surgery the week after this showing), and spending time with my gram. I decided to create in black, white and red with a focus of floral accents, because of the love my grandmother has for her garden. I reused one look because I knew how perfectly it fit into the collection. I reached out Ang, Kristen, Sofi and Teresa to model. They were my perfect muses.
The night before I hosted fittings with everyone except Ang and for the first time ever had finished the tailoring in time to enjoy dinner and go to bed at a reasonable hour (this is big HUGE). Friday, October 15, 2021, I arrived at Hotel Albuquerque around 4pm, I reserved a room that would serve as the space for hair and make up to take place. With the help of my friends, Stephanie and Lydia and hair by Misha, the team got to work. I was feeling a heavy dose of anxiety. In every show from LA to London, I barely stepped out onto the stage, letting my designs speak for my work and inspiration yet for this hometown showing I had to go on stage and talk for a minute about my inspiration and that was unnerving.
We arrived backstage 5 minutes before 7pm and Sofi had a great idea to do a Boomerang of us dancing backstage. It was a great way us to let loose and shake it off. The first designer took the stage and his models followed. I was next. I walked up the steps to the podium adjusted the microphone so I could speak clearly into it and of course if fell out of its holder. I held it to the left of my mouth while trying not to pay attention to the fact that my arm was shaking and spoke the following slowly as the models took the runway and Red Light Camera’s Caged played in the background:
“As an 8th generation Nortena and coyote, my inspiration for this collection is my maternal grandmother her impact on my life and influence on my design aesthetic with simple beautiful designs for every woman.
My gram, as I call her, will be celebrating her 92nd birthday next weekend. Born and raised in northern NM to a farming family, she later became a Harvey Girl before meeting my grandfather and raising a family of 6. Because of the discrimination they both received, the fluent Spanish language they spoke was not passed on, however their faith, importance of family and caring for your community were instilled. She taught me to sew when I was in seventh grade, and when I originally didn’t follow my passion as a fashion designer, she retaught me in my 40s and Hopeless + Cause Atelier born.
This brand is for every woman using demure designs with unexpected embellishments. My models always represent my customers, whom are all different body types, ages and ethnicities. My designs have been featured all over including NYFW and British Vogue (And if we can get out of this pandemic, Paris FW) I know this community and its support is the reason I have achieved so much…so thank you. I am Dara Sophia Romero the designer behind, Hopeless + Cause Atelier. Hope you enjoy Familia, Fe y Communidad.”
I left the stage on cloud nine. It had been months that I had been inspired or even had the energy to create and the room was in a roar with excitement and I smiled from ear-to-ear. I spent the rest of the evening with so many I loved and sharing in the creation of something beautiful especially when there were so many in this inner circle that had a rough year, to say the least. It was a moment to forget about that and just enjoy ourselves.
If you are reading this on Sunday, October 24th, yesterday my gram turned 92 years old. She started her day enjoying coffee and cookies and later, we will be gathering as a family to celebrate the incredible soul to the family she is.
I’m glad I didn’t take myself out of the game. In fact, I’ve been asked to participate in another show supporting another incredible non-profit in January. La vita e un dono….enjoy that gift every day!
“Freak out moment of my trip…I was standing on the sidewalk when a woman walked up to me. She said, ‘sorry to interrupt you, but I have to tell you you have an amazing aura.’ She went on to say that she saw two parts of me–I am very creative and that I am passionate about doing good. She saw me at a crossroad–every time I took a step forward it seemed something would happen and I would take to steps back. She also saw me owning my own business and said some other very personal things that were spot on. She gave me her card. I’ve never been to a clairvoyant before, but I’m totally intrigued. I guess I have the next 24 hours to decide to see her.”…
I wrote that post on Facebook on Saturday, September 7, 2013. I had spent the two days prior in New York attending Mercedes Benz Fashion Week, the official host of NYFW, at Lincoln Center. I received a ticket to see Desigual and snuck in, standing room only, to see Nautica and Marissa Webb. I saw incredible street fashion and stars like Heidi Klum and the Jonas brothers in the lobby. I took photos in the Kabooddle space. Sent cards from the Papyrus space, touched up my hair in the Treseme space. I sipped sparkling wine and ate frozen kefir. I had died and gone to fashion heaven. I was staying at the Hudson Hotel which was only blocks away from Lincoln Center and this hip boutique hotel was a mecca of fashionistas and those industry. I had actually taken the red eye that Wednesday before arriving at the hotel to check-in, shower and head out to the shows.
I was heading back to New Mexico on Sunday, so I thought I would do some souvenir shopping on Fifth Ave. I had pulled out walking traffic onto a side street to take another look at my phone and look up my next stop. As I looking at my phone, this voice approached me. As she spoke, I stood stone-faced yet my mind was swimming. I thought with certainty that she was either a pick pocket or it was an episode of the “Long Island Medium.” I gave up no information including my name, yet she rambled off everything hidden about me.
She started exclaiming my aura was beaming…I mean DUH. I am in NYC. I just spent the past two days living a fantasy come to life. Instead, I smiled and looked at her to continue. She said she saw me in at a crossroads (a month before I had been laid off after 16 years and thinking I’d land an incredible job immediately. I was turned down on two I though I’d be a shoo-in for). She said I seem to take a step forward and end up falling two steps back, again on the money. She saw two sides, a giving hand and a creative side. She told me I was going to be a small business owner. Then it got personal, saying there was distance between my husband and me. She said I’d be married twice and I have three children. She said to be careful because I was surrounded by jealousy. This clairvoyant gave me her card and said she’d love to sit down and do a full reading. Her name is Dallas.
Prior to this meeting, I wasn’t one to seek out clairvoyants or palm readers. In fact, I was a little weary of what they might say or what angle they were getting at. However, I was at a point in my life where I craved clarity to the unknown and maybe that’s what drew her in.
I was freaked out by how much she knew. I immediately took to Facebook and shared what happened, while asking the question, “what would you do?” After a few more stops, I headed back to the hotel and went up to the rooftop to contemplate what had just happened. Unfortunately, we were unable to connect again in person before I left back to Albuquerque, but I did sit down for an hour and a half phone reading. She delved deeper into that initial reading. A month and a half later, I cashed out my 401(K) and invested it in a local clothing boutique. That was the hardest work ever. Being a small business owner is not for the weak of heart. I would work 14 hours a day in the store and at home trying to keep up with my families needs but all were suffering due to lack of full attention.
I went back to fashion week that following February. Constantly being reminded by the name Dallas. Taxi rooflights were illuminated with Dallas since the reboot was back on the air and I would turn the corner the glow from the Dallas BBQ neon signs would captivate my attention. I held on to her card but didn’t reach for fear of what she might see now. I did reach out to her two years later. It was after the boutique closed and a few days that I was hosting my first runway show under the label of Hopeless + Cause Atelier. I was anxious to go down this path so sought out some clarity again.
I sat in my car in the parking lot of the non-profit I was doing some consulting for. I had set up the appointment via text. As we spoke she told me to focus on a question I was seeking an answer to. I thought I was fixated on my professional life, but she verbalized something else. She told me that I was going to get divorced and there was infidelity involved with someone younger. She also told me about my past life. I was an Egyptian and from a lower class and had fallen in love with a man in a higher class. I got pregnant and ended up killing myself. That was a little too much for me. While there was turmoil in my current life, I just couldn’t or really, didn’t want to hear what she was saying. Again, she was foretelling what would unfold.
I have been back to NYC for fashion week (either in February or September or both) 10 times since then. I have enjoyed seeing some incredible fashion and being with many of my favorite people. And, I have shown my designs twice. But this time I can’t explain how excited I am to be going back. I am going with my KK. My friend Heather is taking her daughter and we are meeting up. I will get to see Amanda and Andy after a year and a half. And I know that it’s only been 6 months since I was last there, but if you’ve never been, you don’t understand the energy it brings…the energy to attract complete strangers compelled to tell you. This time it feels different. I think that difference comes from truly appreciating all that life has to offer.
And it is not lost on me, that I will be in New York City on 9/11, twenty years after the horrific attack occurred in our country. Because the date sometimes falls while I’m visiting, I’ve visited ground zero and it’s haunting to hear the names being read. I decided this year to do something small, in honor of the city that I love so, #NYCStrong, so I volunteered to put together food boxes. It is a somber day and a day that should never be forgotten, but the best way for me to move through the emotions is to do something for someone else.
I will also be purchasing material and notions. I have been asked to come out of hiatus to represent Hispanic designers for the Hispanic Heritage Awards on October 15. I am so flippin’ excited by this! Ideas are swimming in my head and I have the perfect models in line for it. Since, I wasn’t able to participate in Paris Fashion Week again this year and there is a definite change in what’s happening in NYFW (I’m still hoping to get into a few shows), I’m excited to experience summer into fall in the city.
Have you ever had a voice tell you the unknown or maybe things you didn’t think you wanted to know? From time to time I think about reaching out to Dallas, I still have her number. But honestly, what could she tell me now? You’re going to have a health scare? Yah, yah, yah. You’re going to fail? Been there. Done that. Some one is going to go out of your life and someone else is going to come in? It’s life, of course. I have experience some incredible highs and extreme lows. I don’t know if I want to be foretold what’s next. We’ll see how I feel tomorrow. How about you? Have you had a voice tell you something incredible? I’d love to hear it in the comments below.
A couple of weeks ago, I went out to do my daily task of watering my patio garden, when I stopped at my tomato plant. Just the day before, it was green, full of leaves and branches stretching out to the sun. It now had stumped branches and most of the leaves were missing, as I bent down to get a closer look I found a perfectly camouflaged green caterpillar had made it its meal. I picked off the caterpillar and put it in the grassy courtyard, I told The Very Hungry Caterpillar to go find a piece of cake.
I wasn’t sure if the plant would recover, but amazingly enough with water, sun and care it has returned, not completely same as before but its thriving today and bearing fruit. And I realized it was a spot-on metaphor for resilience.
On July 29, 2021, I completed 30 daily treatments of radiation therapy. After much thoughtful consideration, I opted to not to do chemotherapy. In my gut, I didn’t feel like it was the best option for me. However, based on the advice from the two oncologists I saw, I decided to do radiation therapy. I knew the 6 weeks of treatment was going to consume my summer, yet I didn’t know how much it would impact my body, which gave me some anxiety, but I thought that this treatment would be another level of protection and prevention.
I showed up for my radiation oncologist appointment on June 15th. After the consultation with my doc, the nurses came in and shared all the “fine print”…that is the side effects, while uncommon, I may develop another form of cancer from this treatment. This blew my mind because everything I have found to combat breast cancer: Tamoxifin, chemotherapy, and radiation have the possible side effect of developing a different form of cancer. They gave me instructions on how to care for my skin during and post treatment. The nurses told me about other side effects such as fatigue, radiation burn which would cause redness to the skin and the possibility of blisters, shedding and/or cracked skin. They mentioned the potential of esophageal issues like sore throat, heartburn or lumps developing. YAY (what the what)!! After I signed the forms, I was taken to the holding area, a small, homey room just for the women receiving treatment that included a changing area. This was the place I would report to daily over the next 6 weeks.
I took my obligatory #medicalgownselfie and realized that I’d be wearing the same style gown for entire period and taking daily photos would be NO FUN, so instead I challenged myself. Don’t judge, but I have a closet filled with shoes, honestly, a ridiculous amount. I figured I could easily pick 30 pairs of shoes and viola here’s how I could continue the fashion component of my journey. I waited patiently for the radiation therapist to take me back to who knows where for the next steps in creating my plan.
“What’s that, a blue freckle?”
I was met by Rebecca, who was friendly and had the duty of explaining to me what was going to happen: first body scans, body contortion and alignment, tattooed points, a cast of my breast (later lovingly and jokingly called my boob armor), and before I left the doctor would come in and take a final look at all of this. All this for the purpose of providing the most precise course of treatment. She took me into the radiation cave, and I met Elise another bubbly and super caring, therapist. We got to work. I stated my name and date of birth as I would do every day as a safety check to ensure my profile on the screens would match me, the patient. With gown down to my waist, I climbed on the hard molded plastic, reminiscent of an amusement park ride chair with a raised bump that I need to firmly rest my booty on. I laid down horizontally on this bench. They slid a pillow under my knees and asked me to raise arms over my head and grasp the handlebars. I was asked to turn my head slightly to the right on the super uncomfortable headrest. There were sheets under me for the purpose moving my body slightly up, down, to the right and to the left by the therapists. My body was dotted with marker as I was moved and readjusted for the exact path. Then came out the ink and needle and in an instant I had three new tattoos added to my collection, my own “blue freckles” (only two took, so now I have four tattoos total). My doc came in reviewed every thing and the therapists when on to create my molded armor for the purpose of more direct treatment. As they applied Vaseline to my body, they explained the process of the warmed material (I think some form of plastic) would be placed on my left side over my breast and would take shape. They would use this extra armor every other day through most of the course of my treatment. I explained to them that I grew up in the home of an artist, so I was familiar with the process of creating a mold and was super thankful that this time, it didn’t include Vaseline on my face and straws up my nose.
After that step was completed, the therapists said it would probably take a couple of weeks to create my schedule and walked me back to the waiting area so I could change and be on my way. Not even 48 hours later, I received the call and started my treatment. The first two weeks I didn’t feel any real side effects beyond a little tightness in my breast. I continued to work and my aunt, Lisa, was still coming over daily to walk Coco and I had enough energy to join them. Almost immediately, my routine started to feel like the movie, Ground Hog Day. I would wake, watch morning mass, go for a walk, go to work, multiple times throughout the day, apply excessive amounts of skin creams and oils, come home, eat, and fall asleep, and wake to do the same thing the next day.
I started to feel myself slip down the rabbit hole. It was hot…beyond hot summer weather. While I love my Jeep, the heat was getting to me with no air conditioning. I was told to stay out of the sun and that’s hard to do in a Jeep. The seat belt was starting to irritate me to the point that I didn’t want to wear it. Mentally, the fact that I couldn’t travel, and was starting to feel too fatigued to really do much beyond work, annoyed me. Luckily, I had friends that would get me out even if it was just for a light dinner. Yet, what I could and couldn’t wear was starting to weigh heavily. I wholeheartedly believe that what we wear has an impact on how we feel and carry ourselves. It plays into our psyche and into our mood. Weeks into treatment, I could no longer wear a sports bra and as a 40 something woman who had breast fed two children, there are some definite differences in my breasts right now. I also wasn’t running or doing yoga as I had been before this journey and I started feeling it.
My birthday was coming up. Don’t get me wrong. I LOVE celebrating my birthday. I believe birthdays are a blessing and the more around me to celebrate the merrier. It’s me and I know I’m a weirdo, but I don’t believe in telling people it’s my birthday, so over the years I just invite people to join me for either a cocktail or a meal but not telling them that it’s my birthday. There are several reasons why I have done this, 1: it’s the day after a major holiday that includes high consumption of alcohol so I don’t want people to feel like they obligated to join me if they need to recover, and B: it’s also the peak of summer time travel, and tres: I feel like people who want to celebrate my birthday know when it is, and I shouldn’t have to remind them. I know….weirdo!!
I woke up in a funk. I didn’t sleep well the night before because my neighborhood had decided to compete with the golf course on how could have the louder, more impactful fireworks display into the wee hours of the night and my poor Coco was so traumatized so when she couldn’t sleep neither could I. I should have woke up with excitement…it was my day, but I didn’t. My mini, KK, my aunt, Lisa, and my SIL, Yvette came to the rescue. I expressed my feelings of not being me to my KK. She validated them and said it was okay to feel the way I did. That was helpful. We picked up Yvette and tried to get pedicures. Unfortunately the shop was understaffed so we then decided to go to lunch. Place after place was an average hour wait. The other thing about having a birthday the day after a national holiday is when said holiday falls on Sunday, the observed holiday is the next day. So after driving all over, we landed it at El Pinto. I was grateful that they did this for me. And, I was excited for later in the day. I had invited friends and family, whom had been my support system, to join me for an after work social. Really, I wanted to celebrate them and with them. We finished lunch.The plan was to take a nap but our roaming around town trying to find something to do ruled that out. Instead I took the girls to their respective homes and hurried home to get ready.
My other mini picked me up and poor Isaiah and Brianna had to deal with my mood on the way to Revel. I just wanted someone to tell me that I’m pretty and to buy me something. I looked at myself deep into my hazel green eyes and told myself, “You are pretty”. I then went on to buy myself something. It worked, but not as good as arriving to my summer soiree and seeing so many incredible people who have been woven into my life.
Tears hit my eyes in gratitude and love and I was reminded to snap out of it!! I smiled all night as I spoke to each of these important people. Normally this day, I go around the room and talk about each person, how we met and their impact on my. The number was too great to do in one evening so I suggested that they get out of their comfort zone and meet each each other because they were all amazing to me.
Being able to see, hug and enjoy the company of some absolutely incredible humans, I was reminded how completely blessed I am. I shared four gifts:1. Sunflowers which are my favorite, but flowers in general remind me that when we’re feeling overwhelmed—that we’re not buried, but instead we’ve been planted to root and grow and bloom. Sunflowers reach to the sun, provide shade for others and once they’ve reached their peak, shed seeds of beauty for future generations. 2. Sparklers to remind us to be a light for others and to celebrate everyday….always…life is too short to not do it! 3. Bubbles to remind us to never loose sight of our childlike tendencies like wonder and having fun. 4. Spa face masks to remind us of self-care especially throughout the craziness of life. You’re no good to anyone if your not taking care of yourself first.
This is the joy injection I needed. I continued through the rest of July seeing friends as often as I had the energy to. I was still living that wonderful Ground Hog Day scenario, but my radiation therapists and doctor were telling me how good I was doing. That was uplifting! I continually had friends checking in and that was completely uplifting! I had decided early on to do a Instastory countdown which included the music I would hear each morning at the therapy. There was a moment when I truly thought my therapists were trying to kill me…that occurred when then the radio was stuck on a country station for three days. At one point, I wanted to ask if they could play the songs backwards so I could get my health back, my jeep would start, and my Chibi and Kiki would come back to life, but fortunately they put it back on a pop/rock station. Hallelujah!
As I think back on this experience, I don’t remember all the details (which is funny because as I was experiencing it I thought I’d never forget what I was going through). However, I have chosen to write about my journey, so that one day (and I know that day will be soon) I will be able to look a back and say I had this difficult time in life, but I conquered that mountain, and maybe someone else will read this, and as Brene Brown stated, “it will be their survival guide”.
It was my last week of radiation and because I have come to believe I am a self-sadist, I also had my second COVID vaccination scheduled (when I was my most fatigued and charred). I chose to get vaccinated at the advice of my doctor, the number of rising Delta Variant cases and because I had bought a plane ticket to NYC for fashion week….this was the carrot dangling and inspiring me to get through this treatment. Daily, I had Kristen and Ang checking on me….and honestly, so MANY checking in and sending good energy. THIS meant the world that they were cheering me on and genuinely concerned. Kristen asked if I was up for celebrating. I had a bottle of bubbly Rose waiting for my last day, a celebratory gift from my friend Eilene. After all I had been through, I was I definitely was up to seeing friends and even being a little extra. We opted for dinner at Scalo, my go to for so many important celebrations in my life (my mom used to take me there for my birthdays years ago and friends had planned my 40th there just a couple of years ago…it’s a special place for me).
I completed the challenge. 30 different pairs of shoes for 30 days of treatment.
My last day of radiation treatment was Thursday, July 29th. I arrived at NM cancer center with a large gift bag filled with the same gifts I gave a my summer soiree sans the sunflowers. I wanted the radiation team to know I much I appreciated them and the care they gave to me. I also donned my sparkliest kitten heel Badley Mischka pumps. I thought that would be the most appropriate pair to celebrate the end of my radiation. Ashley, who was one of my therapists cheered me on after the end of my last treatment and presented me with a certificate of appreciation. It stated, “I survived radiation and all I got was this certificate”. LOL–it didn’t–I was just checking to see if you are still reading?!? During those six weeks, I saw women of all ages come through the curtain into the waiting room. We talked about our experiences and cheered each other on. It was that camaraderie, like soldiers going into battle, that reminded me I am not alone in this experience. I now understand why people are dubbed cancer warriors. Cancer not only fucks with your body, but also your mind and spirit, yet you show up each day to battle.
A year before, almost to the date of my last radiation treatment I wrote about finally being comfortable with my body. Little did I know what the following year would hold.
This body has changed shape and size. This body has been made to feel self hatred. This body has indulged and starved itself. This body has felt immense pain, complete ecstasy, and everything in between. This body has created two humans. This body nourished them. This body endured the pain, loss and the difficult cleanse of a miscarriage. This body has lines around its smile and dimples in its cheeks and will one day stretch and sag. This body hasn’t had any surgical enhancements, lifts or fills and only broke a bone once, in the act of play. This body I try to persuade to like to run but it really likes to stretch through yoga and move through dance. This body enjoys wine, dinner with loved ones, and dark chocolate. This body comes alive with the right touch or embrace. This body has scars. This body is not perfect yet I catch eyes staring at it. This body is a work in progress. This body feels young like the summer sun except after long days on its retail legs. This body has art on it. This body is a work of art. This body is mine. And, I am grateful.
I’ve learned to love my outer shell…it’s been a work in progress throughout the years but I wouldn’t exchange it for anyone else’s. And lately, I had been feeling like Sally from Nightmare Before Christmas. I know all that had been done was to save me from the cancer spreading but I still hadn’t felt like me. So on this night of celebration I decided I needed a to be a little extra.
We had dinner plans for Saturday, July 31st. The last day of my birthday month and a big ass celebration for overcoming this obstacle on my path. Ang picked me up. The night was typical monsoon weather in Albuquerque. The heavens had opened up just hours before and was reduced to a constant drizzle. Dinner reservations were at 6:30pm followed by a cocktail at Copper Lounge the place were the journey began.
I decided to go all out in my extra-ness. I tracked down this incredibly revealing and beautiful blue dress (actually swim cover up) with the help of my colleague and friend in Cali and had saved it specifically for this evening. I did my make up (I know shocking) and hair (knew it would be a puff ball by the end of the night because of the humidity). One might ask, “why I would wear something revealing.” I wanted to display my battle scar. I am more than my treatment and to be honest looked amazing (not being conceited just being honest…I deserved to feel beautiful again). Ang picked me up just after 6:00pm. Arrived shortly after. I was joined by Kristen, Evelyn, Denise, Lee and Lalaine. Our table included a beautiful bouquet of flowers from Evelyn, and a bottle of champagne from the house. Kristen had alerted them of our celebration and our waiter, Arnaldo, shared his own personal story with breast cancer as his own mother was a 14 year thriver. He was the perfect person to help us celebrate the evening.
It was great to catch up with everyone. I hadn’t seen everyone all together for weeks. We laughed, drank bubbly, ate tasty food and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. They wouldn’t let me pay my share and that annoyed me but I had become a little afraid of Kristen and her sternness of ensuring this evening was about me.
This is for anyone out there who needs to hear this…really, YOU ARE!
The evening went on into the wee hours and it was absolutely perfect. It has been a couple of weeks and I have slowly moved back into some normalcy (well, as much as I can in a pandemic). I can’t wait to travel to NYC and Portland next month. I can’t wait for the day when the only answer to the question, “so what’s the next steps in your treatment”, is “to live a happy and healthy life”, but for now, I will be receiving monthly shots as part of my hormone therapy and then back on the table for reconstruction. I haven’t reached that mountain peak, but at least I can see it. I am still in pain, but it’s manageable. I have my body insecurities, but I remind myself who I am. And I remind myself on the daily how after every I am truly blessed.
Through this journey, I have learned how resilient I am. Sometimes resilience is knowing the day in front of you is a difficult one, but still moving forward, sometimes it’s resting, and sometimes it comes from your support team. I found this post on FB, while relating to the current pandemic, I thought it was the perfect ending to this blog and our own resiliency:
′′This moment humanity is experiencing can be seen as a door or a hole. The decision to fall in the hole or walk through the door is up to you. If you consume the news 24 hours a day, with negative energy, constantly nervous, with pessimism, you will fall into this hole.
But if you take the opportunity to look at yourself, to rethink life and death, to take care of yourself and others, then you will walk through the portal.
Take care of your home, take care of your body. Connect with your spiritual home. When you take care of yourself, you take care of everyone at the same time.
Do not underestimate the spiritual dimension of this crisis. Take the perspective of an eagle that sees everything from above with a broader view. There is a social question in this crisis, but also a spiritual question. The two go hand in hand.
Without the social dimension we fall into fanaticism. Without the spiritual dimension, we fall into pessimism and futility.
Are you ready to face this crisis. Grab your toolbox and use all the tools at your disposal.
Learn resistance from the example of Indian and African peoples: we have been and are exterminated. But we never stopped singing, dancing, lighting a fire and rejoicing.
Don’t feel guilty for feeling blessed in these troubled times. Being sad or angry doesn’t help at all. Resistance is resistance through joy!
You have the right to be strong and positive. And there’s no other way to do it than to maintain a beautiful, happy, bright posture.
Has nothing to do with alienation (ignorance of the world). It’s a resistance strategy.
When we cross the threshold, we have a new worldview because we faced our fears and difficulties. This is all you can do now:
– Serenity in the storm
– Keep calm, pray everyday
– Make a habit of meeting the sacred everyday.
Show resistance through art, joy, trust and love.”
Every year, typically the first weekend in December, my family descends on our northern New Mexico ranch to cut down trees for Christmas. The tradition dates back to my furthest memory when my grandpo would take his truck with my uncle to cut them down and the tradition continued after his death with my my uncles, cousins, brother and sometimes, my family joining in on the activities. The week following receipt of my tree, I decorate it with lights and the ornaments I have collected throughout the years: from travels, my minis crafted ones, to the annual additions. This year after the epiphany (the date I normally take my tree down), I took down the ornaments but left the tree up with lights still on. Now you have to realize, this tree was born from the high dessert, mountain climate. It doesn’t receive much water as other firs or balsams, from the Pacific Northwest, you’d find at the tree lots. It was still hearty and the needles on the branches would bounce back when I’d squeeze them, plus Coco loved rubbing herself against the lower branches, so I decided I would keep up this lovely reminder up as long as it looked healthy enough to stay up.
It’s been just over two months since my last post, and it is truly heart warming to have received questions, emails and texts to find out if there is a new blog post. Initially, I didn’t have a lot to write about. I was basically a human veal after surgery confined to my recliner for a few weeks as I healed. When I returned to work, life became quite busy again and I was happily exhausted to be back doing what I love: helping people through fashion. However, as I sit here and type, I realize there has been so much that has happened and still so much more to go.
I woke up on Wednesday, March 31st, after not an entirely peaceful sleep, but an uninterrupted one. I was told not to drink or eat anything after midnight with the exception of clear liquids up to 4 hours before surgery. Being a little paranoid of not wanting to asphyxiate myself, I opted for a cup of warm water and sat down to watch mass streaming from St. Patrick’s Cathedral in NYC. After, I jumped in the shower and dressed in the outfit I had intentionally set out: my mom’s over-sized button up blouse, my new DKNY joggers and a pair of bedazzled mules I had purchased a season before, I semi-patiently waited for Ang. I felt more empowered in this look than I would have been in sweats and flip flops. Ang arrived promptly at 7:30am. My first stop was to go to the X-Ray center. However I wasn’t able to make it over to Walgreens the night before for my prescriptions, so I asked if we could stop by first. Unfortunately, they didn’t open until 9am. I had been advised to take them with me to my plastic surgeon appointment, so I was a little worried about not having them. We went to my appointment to be injected with radioactive fluid in my left breast for the purpose of finding whether or not the cancer had spread to my lymph nodes. Even though I was about to go under and have my left breast removed, after a conversation with a colleague whom had a double mastectomy two years before, I was much more worried about the pain from this than the surgery itself. As with many of my appointments up until this point, Ang, or any guest, couldn’t go in with me. I checked in and sat there. Within a few minutes, I heard my name. The technician politely asked how I was doing, knowing I was going into surgery. Again, I wasn’t worried about the surgery but this procedure and I asked how much it hurt (I had been advised that it felt like a hot poker going into your underarm). He coaxed me by saying I might feel a little prick from the needle but he hadn’t had received feedback from the other patients that it was very painful. And honestly, it wasn’t, so I think it was a different procedure. From that point forward, I decided to take what I hear with a grain of salt because everyone’s experiences are different.
It was only 8:30am and my next appointment was at 10:00am to be marked up for surgery by my plastic surgeon. By this time, SO many messages and posts of support and love were coming through and I felt incredibly blessed.
But still worried about not having my prescriptions, I asked Ang if she could take me back to Walgreens to pick up my items. She obliged, driving from the NE Heights back to Paradise Hills and on to downtown for my appointment (she’s kind of saint, but don’t tell her, I don’t want her head getting TOO big).
We arrived at my plastic surgeon’s office and I received a call from my breast surgeon’s office asking where I was. I explained what I was doing and they mentioned that my breast surgeon had an opening and was available earlier. I told her I would be there as soon as I could. Luckily, the surgery center was just down the road. Just then, a staff member came in and said thank you for the flowers. Ang looked at me perplexed. I said, “yes, I sent flowers on my surgery day to both surgeons’ offices for all the care they have been providing (little did she know when she got home she’d also have flowers waiting for her)”. HA! While Ang was able to go in with me to this appointment, to get all the details on the meds and my drains, the surgery center mentioned not having guests join you. However, Ang has a mind of her own. She asked if I would be upset if she went in and of course, my answer was, NO. We made our way in, making stops to be scanned then properly checked in and made our way to the 7th floor of Presbyterian Hospital downtown.
Ang sat in the waiting area, while I filed out the mountain of paperwork that would rival closing papers on a home. Once complete and after Ang received instructions on how she’d be called for pick up and a big hug, a nurse took me back. I walked through the doors to a big open space with beds sectioned off by drapes. I asked is the surgery center, look at other patients like animals in their cages. I was told it was only the pre-op area. I was taken to my bed and asked a slew of questions by one nurse, while another took my vitals. My breast surgeon walked over and we had a cordial conversation. As the nurses, oohed and ahhed over my shoes, Dr. Smith talked about the work I do at Macy’s and told them all they should see me. I agreed, but added they would need to wait a month, jokingly. I appreciated her pimping out my services. lol. It was weird. I was not nervous. I was not anxious. I was extremely calm and at peace. It was weird–never in my life have I felt this calm! I changed into my gown and they brought me Cardinal Health socks. That made me smile and I felt comforted. The nurses started talking about the anesthesia and asked about motion sickness. I had been told about the nausea from it so I asked for the patch. They had me fill out additional paperwork and gave me additional instructions for care and placed it behind my ear. The conversation with the anesthesiologist was next. By this time I was cracking jokes with the nurses, and he asked if I had any questions. I think I asked something to the effect, you’re going to make sure I wake up, right?!? He laughed. He had an assistant, whom even with a mask on, was quite the looker. So of course I threw my awkward charm on high–hey, I was going into surgery, not dying. I tried following the instructions, but I think I went under quite quickly because I don’t remember anything further.
💪🏼💗
Waking hours later, the nurse was asking how I was feeling. Groggy, I think I said, “good”. I don’t recall if I was dressed or if I dressed myself. She went on to talk about appetite. She said if I wasn’t hungry I could sip on broth or if I was, comfort food like mashed potatoes or macaroni and cheese would suffice. I was helped into a wheel chair and rolled out curbside where Angela was waiting for me. With help I climbed into the car with my new body and new appendages secured to me. Keep this in mind for the next few days I was loopy loopy, with the anesthesia, pain meds, muscle relaxer and pain ball affixed to me. I don’t remember much. However, I remember this (somewhat). Ang asked how I was doing and if I was hungry. I said YES I want mashed potatoes…oh, and maybe some macaroni and cheese. The power of suggestion. LOL! As she drove west towards my casita. I got on my phone and feverish responded to people who had texted me that morning. It was a simple pink heart and muscle. I was afraid of what I’d type if it was more.
When we arrived at my casita, Brianna was already there ready to help with Coco because she’s a happy jumper. As I walked in, I had flowers from her waiting for me. I settled in and shortly there after Cati and Isaiah arrived. My heart was full. I don’t remember if I ate right away but I do recall starting my pain meds regimen. We took a few photos and watched I think Friends with Benefits or No Strings Attached. I was out of it. I knew I’d be living on the recliner for the next few weeks because I’m a side sleeper and each of my sides had things coming out of it. Isaiah took Coco for walks while Brianna, who is studying to be a nurse, and Cati took care of me. Ang left when she felt I was settled in.
The next day, I had a follow up appointment with my plastic surgeon. Dr. Chan took a look at everything and said I was healing well. She asked about my drains and pain level. She mentioned the pain ball and how it would provide targeted, time-released medication. She informed me that once it was collapsed, 3-4 days later. I could come back in for her to take it out (my next scheduled appointment was a week later) or I could pull it the catheter myself (I almost passed out thinking about it). We left there and I asked if Cati she would take me to drop off a few Wrong Girl tees that I wasn’t able to get out before my surgery. It was Good Friday and there were a few things I wanted to get to prepare for Easter so we also stopped by the grocery store. I was still in a fog but gratefully not in pain…just feeling awkward. Clothing is a weird concept when you are wearing sports bra that feels more like a bullet proof vest and have drains and a pain ball hanging off of you. FASHION POINT: Free People was my go to during this time. Their flowy garments saved the day and hid things quite well. I was feeling tired but glad to get out. We returned home and then something really bad happened.
Cati flipped on the TV and opened up Hulu. She opted to put on Jersey Shore. I fell in and out of sleep while she binged, only to wake and become addicted to the mindless rubbish. For the next 4 weeks, I was an addict watching all 6 original seasons, then tracking down the Family Vacation season 1 and 2, and finally making Isaiah sign up for MTV so I could watch the last season that wasn’t available on Hulu. I know riddiculousness–YEAH BUDDY!
“May the flowers remind us why the rain was necessary” – Xan Oku
Cati stayed with me through Saturday, sleeping on the couch next to me instead of my bed. Isaiah and Brianna took over. Friends were sending flowers, edible arrangements, warrior gifts and food. I felt the immense love and support. My house was filled with flowers and smelt so good. I planned to wake up on Easter Sunday and make this incredible meal for my minis: quiche, chicken salad sandwiches on croissants, roasted veggies, salad and a lemon tart, but repetitive motion was not my friend, so we cooked that day family-style I became the director and they became my sous chefs. We had a lovely meal and watched more mindless or comedic tv.
After they left, life kind of turned into the movie, Groundhog Day.
I slept somewhat uncomfortably in my recliner during the night. Watching mass in the morning while my aunt Lisa stopped by daily to walk Coco. I’d get up, take my daily regimen of medication and supplements, clean out my drains, take sponge baths until I could finally take one on my own, watch mindless tv, read, write thank you’s or color in my NYC coloring book, until the afternoon when Isaiah would come by to walk Coco, check on me and leave. Because I was unable to drive my only outings were to doctor appointments, so if my chauffeur had time after, I was SUPER excited to do things like go to Trader Joe’s.
As I sat in my recliner, I would look at the tree and really noticed how crooked it was in its stand. I also noticed something else quite wonderful. I noticed how stubborn it was. Months ago it was given its fate, to decorate someone’s home temporarily and I know how eccentric I look (I’ve had a number of friends and family ask if they could help me take it down). But there it was still vibrant forest green and providing comfort to Coco as she used the bottom branches to rub against. There were a few needles that would fall but it was still holding on, drinking the water in its base. It reminded me that we are stronger than we think we are.
Four days had passed, and my pain ball had imploded. I could make an appointment to have it removed. I could ask Briana, who is training for just this type of situation, to remove it. It was Monday night and I really wanted to sleep on my preferential right side, so I went to the bathroom took a deep breath and started to remove the dressings covering the insertion point. What I found when I took them off that their were two catheters and I reminded myself not to pass out, that I could do this. I started with the first. I took an alcohol pad cleaned the area and started pulling out the cord. It kept going and going for about 12 inches. Then, I realized I was alone and if I passed out, no one would find me until the morning. LOL! I sat on the toilet took deep breaths and let the blood rush back to my head and then started on the second. They were out and I realized I’m She-ra master of the universe! I slept much better that night.
A few days later, was another follow up with my plastic surgeon and my breast surgeon. I was hoping it was good news from my breast surgeon as the pathology would hopefully be back. Cati wanted to join me and Brianna offered to drive, so I was with my girls. Ang really wanted to take me to the appointments but had a big project for work. First was the visit with Dr. Smith, we arrived and I checked in while the girls sat in the lobby. The staff took my vitals. I waited for Dr. Smith on the exam bed. She examined my surgery site and said I was healing well. After the exam, we went into a consultation room so she could go over the results. She stated the tumor removed was approximately 5cm. There was a second tumor that was much smaller. It was also my understanding at the time that the lymph nodes were clear, but later found out that two had nanoscopic amounts of cancer in them. She then went on to say my margins were negative. Not knowing what this meant I asked…which she explained that the tissue around the tumor was clear from cancer cells. She asked when my next oncologist appointment was and said she’d see me in a year. I was in shock and hadn’t realized how much I was sweating until I got up from my seat. She sent me out with a copy of my pathology report. I walked out on cloud nine, down the hall to the three faces anxiously waiting for me. There were KK, Ang and Brianna. Ang had taken her lunch break to be there when I got the news. I told them. Ang cried which made me cry. We all hugged and praised God. Ang left and we headed out to the next appointment.
I sat in the backseat and explained to the girls where my plastic surgeon’s office was. It was kind of tricky so I instructed Brianna to exit at MLK, go under the overpass, and then head north on Oak. I know we were all full of emotion but as I looked up from my phone, I saw a car coming right at us unable to stop. It hit the front passenger side. Luckily while we were all jolted a bit, no one was hurt. The driver at the car got out and started shouting at us and of course my KK, who doesn’t take anything from anyone, started shouting back saying, “put your mask on and get back in your car”. I called my doctor’s office and explained that we had just been in an accident and asked if I needed to reschedule. They said it was up to me, so I responded I’d let them know after the police came. The ambulance was first on the scene checking on everyone. We were fine. Brianna was mortified asking if I was okay. I explained I was and reminded her it was an accident. Her mom actually worked right down the road and was able to arrive and comfort her as mom’s do. After we completed the police report, her mom switched cars with us and we went on to my appointment. It was quite an exciting day. Dr. Chan checked me out. I explained I pulled out my own pain ball…hey, I deserve a gold star for that. I shared my pathology report and my drains schedule. She said I looked good and sent me on my merry way.
Friends started to come over to visit. Bringing meals and much needed conversation and laughter. I still looked funky so I really wasn’t up for going out. One night, my fellow breast cancer warrior friend, was sharing her own journey and that was helpful, but there was one comment in particular that stood out. She said when she was in the midst of her battle another friend of hers, who had completed her treatment told her, while it doesn’t feel like it today, there will be a day you don’t think of cancer. She has passed that point and said she knows I will get there too. All the wonderful support I was receiving was mind blowing. I heard from people I hadn’t spoken to in years. I heard from friends from across the country. You have no idea the power a simple text message has.
The next week was my follow up oncology appointment with Dr. Palacio Cardenas. It was at NM Cancer Center and they did not allow guests, so my SIL, Yvette, volunteered to take me. I felt bad that she had to wait in the car during my appointment. I went in and Dr. Palacio pulled up my pathology report and shared the data found from major collaborative research, MindACT. She informed me that based on my pathology, my age and genetic testing, I would fall within the category of 5% that the cancer could return if I did nothing further. That sounded like pretty good odds to me. She gave me a copy of the synopsis of the research to take home. I asked about hormone therapy because I was kind of confused when she mentioned I should do radiation. She suggested I talk to a radiation oncologist. I left there feeling a little perplexed after my appointment. Yvette was off that day and asked if I wanted to go have lunch.
This experience has taught me a couple of things. First, what did a layperson do before Google? I’ve searched more terms, clinical trials and research more in the first few months of this year than I have in the past 5 years combined. And second, it really teaches you what is important. While I’ve understood for decades the fragility of life, but I’ve really found the importance of being present. While I was sharing my story, I was learning about the journeys everyone else was experiencing. Everything from their own cancer journeys, caring for aging parents, traumatic events, family disconnects…everything good, bad and everything. That has been the biggest blessing. Because I have shared my journey with you, you have felt comfortable opening up and sharing your own journeys with me. Thank you for sharing with me! It added to my prayers and to my deep care. Lunch with Yvette was filled with laughter and conversation and followed up with flower and goodie shopping at Trader Joe’s.
The days passed slower than I had hoped. I started walking more. I started doing more chores and trying to get back into a normal schedule. Fortunately, the Wrong Girl tee was in it’s 2nd campaign so that kept me busy packing and sending tees across the country It was my last week back and had appointments with my plastic surgeon, oncologist and radiation oncologist before returning to work that weekend. My plastic surgeon removed my drains and informed me the next step was to start filling my expander with saline. Again the girl who hates needles dreaded seeing the syringe with the 4″ needle. And if I chose to do radiation, the plan was to overfill the expander because it would shrink during that treatment.
My next appointments were duo appointments at the cancer center. First with my oncologist, then an hour break before my radiation oncologist appointment. Again the center wasn’t open up to guests joining me, so I checked in, the team took my vitals and then I went into the examination room and waited for Dr. Palacio. Honestly, I don’t remember the first part of our conversation. She started talking about wanting to send the tissue sample to the pathology center she preferred in Europe but unfortunately, there wanted enough left after the center that Dr. Smith had used. Then she started talking about chemotherapy and I think time froze in that moment. I was in shock because I hadn’t considered chemo and I started crying (I blamed it on my hormones). I felt like a brick wall had fallen on me. Then she asked me something that left me mind-boggled. She asked if I had a support system, and I thought about the past four months and the INCREDIBLE loving support I had received and I blurted out, “YES! But the cancer center protocols don’t allow anyone to join me for this appointment.” I couldn’t stop crying which sucked. She stated she was going to refer me for a second opinion and she was going to print the materials on the chemotherapy she was wanted to prescribe. She told me to see if I could see the radiation oncologist earlier.
I walked down the hall, with my face swollen and red. I checked in with Dr. Guo’s team and they asked me to wait in the sitting area as they tried to see if she was available. I took out the book I was reading, “Becoming” by Michelle Obama. I figured that would help me pass the time and get my mind off things. Not so much. I happened to start reading the section where she talks about her college friend dying from cancer and the water works started again. At the same time, the receptionist came over and said they couldn’t track her down, thinking she was at lunch. I had an hour break and she suggested I get some lunch. I wasn’t hungry so instead I went to Trader Joe’s and bought flowers.
I returned and she talked about the process but we couldn’t start talking about the plan because it would depend on whether or not I would be doing chemo. But she did talk about a time frame and if I did chemo it would be 12 weeks with another 6 weeks of radiation. I returned to work the next day and it was a wonderful escape. I took it slow because my body was not ready for all the standing, walking, and carrying, I’d I have to do. I was also so grateful to see the response of my return from colleagues and clients. The best comment I received was from my colleague when she said, “I missed your laughter on the floor.” My days were filled and I was happily exhausted.
I decided to cut my hair, SHORT. I hadn’t cut it this short since I was in the sixth grade. I was getting tired of it and figured if I did opt for chemo it would be less I’d have to deal with. I figured I needed a new, easy breezy look.
A few weeks before I left for surgery, I received an email from Macy’s Corporate Giving liaison inviting me to attend the Breast Cancer Research Foundation virtual gala. She did not not know of my recent diagnosis. I was invited because of the work I do in the local community. I responded with my gratitude and shared my story. A few weeks after my return, I received an email from the BCRF events director asking for my address to send out the package. I responded and also included a note saying how honored I was and that I was on my own breast cancer journey. I was surprised when he responded asking if I needed resources or services near me, I could always reach out. I took my shot and asked about clinical trials or research supported by the foundation related to hormone therapy vs. chemotherapy. I was floored when he connected me to their Chief Scientific Officer. We connected a few days later and she talked about the research they supported recently. She asked about my diagnosis and my genetic testing. It was super helpful and perfect timing as it was a few days before my second opinion appointment.
The next day was the gala. I had fun on social media posting a few different looks and asking for audience participation. I attended the gala from home. Elizabeth Hurley hosted. Broadway cast members performed, as well as Sir Elton John. I cried as I heard about the money Macy’s raised supported 17 researchers and sat back listened (because unfortunately, my mic and video didn’t work…technology hates me) to Macy’s leadership at our virtual table talk.
I woke the following morning uneasy to see what the second oncologist would have to say. Ang wanted to attend with me, so we decided to meet at UNM Cancer Center. Another massive center, we kind of got lost. Tagged everywhere we went, we were finally taken back and my vitals were taken. The nurse took me into the exam room and asked me to undress and put on the medical gown. I thought it was only a consult but okay. The doctor came in a few minutes later with a student…it is a learning hospital. He examined my breast and lymph nodes and looked for swelling else where. Then I changed back for our chat. He started by asking what I understood of my prognosis. I told him I understood that I was in this gray area. My clear genetic testing and microscopic lymph node findings helpful for me were but the size of my tumor and the fact that I was postmenopausal were my detriment in a clear treatment path. He agreed. He went on to talk about the MINDACT study and where I fell. Then on to talk about the chemotherapy my oncologist was wanting to prescribe and the side affects and the other chemotherapy option. He took note when I mentioned I was on Tamoxifen. He kept saying I was 49 and for a moment I was questioning myself on how old I was until a point where I had to ask for clarification. I said, “I don’t know if this makes a difference but I’m only 47”. He said, “no”. Then came time for his opinion. Professionally he said 50/50 he would prescribe chemotherapy for my case. When Ang asked if he were me, would he personally do chemo, he said no because the side effects outweighed the benefit I would get. I asked about radiation and he said 100% he’d do that.
So I’m back to 47 shades of gray. Here is where I’m at today. My oncologist appointment is June 7th. That’s where I decide next steps. It’s a lot. But I know whatever I do, I won’t have any regrets. I have too much living to do. And as the world is opening up again, I’ve received invites to NYC, London, Paris, Milan and Tokyo fashion weeks. I did find out, that I didn’t make it to the next season of Project Runway. Honestly this year isn’t the right time. I have however have so many ideas of designs that are easy to wear but still beautiful, because I found that there isn’t much out there for women after surgery.
Through this all, I know I am incredibly blessed and thankful for my medical teams, my family and my wonderful friends. I am grateful for the health insurance I have and being able to return to work I enjoy. If I refer you here, when you ask where I’m at, it’s not because I don’t want to tell you. It just takes a toll some days so please keep that into consideration. I finally took down the tree today. It gave me so much joy and peace and comfort to Coco, but it was time. I appreciated the almost 7 months it provided. Never underestimate what comes from Northern New Mexico…it will always surprise you.
Finally, if you missed out on the Wrong Girl Campaign and want to get your baseball tee, by request I’m starting a third campaign. Go to: www.HopelessCauseAtelier.com/Shop to find out how.
I grew up in Alameda, the North Valley area of Albuquerque. I was raised in the Catholic tradition and my mom ensured that we went to mass weekly and for holy days. When we were young, my mother, brother and I sat in the fourth row on the left side of the church, closest to the center aisle. I think she purposely sat us up there because I swear the devil would slip into my brother and me, and we would laugh uncontrollably. Even when she’d pull the baby hairs on our neck with tears running down our cheeks, we couldn’t stop. We’d start mass sitting next to each other and end up with her sitting between us. I think some of my favorite memories would be at the end of the service and the exit hymn would be “This is the day”. The congregation would roar into wonderful harmony and clap the beat.
This is the day, this is the day. That the Lord has made, that the Lord has made. Let us rejoice, let us rejoice, And be glad in it, and be glad in it.
There were a number of years that a younger priest was assigned to The Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary. He was stern but a great leader and I would always smile when he would ask, while exiting, for my brother to walk with him out.
I am sharing this post on Wednesday, March 31st. Some of you have been following along this latest chapter in my Ms. Adventure journey. If you have, thank you. But for those of you who may not have the full picture, on February 18, 2021, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. While scary, I truly believe I’m quite lucky (and I don’t say that lightly as I feel that I’m a pretty unlucky person) because from the diagnosis (and boy I have done tests), it is contained to a four inch tumor in my left breast. It is a slow growing tumor so the need for radiation or chemotherapy to shrink it wasn’t necessary and because it feeds on hormones, I have been prescribed a hormone blocker. But today is the day…it is the day of my mastectomy.
It’s not something I’m completely excited about, but instead feel it is necessary in order to move forward. Like every life changing event I’ve encountered, I’ve found the past few weeks that I’ve continued to learn about myself and those around me.
Learning about women who receive a crocheted prosthesis if they can’t afford reconstruction, I was compelled to raise money for an organization that supported medical costs related to breast cancer, and I really wanted to support reconstruction/plastic surgery costs for women who didn’t have adequate insurance or could afford the out of pocket expenses.
Initially, I didn’t know who would be the beneficiary and I was running out of time because, selfishly, I wanted to the Wrong Girl t-shirts to ready for anyone who purchased one before my surgery. I got to work. I shared my blog. I posted over and over and over on social media. I even resorted to sending out a text stating, “I am doing this thing and I hope you will consider supporting it, with the link to my last blog”. While many, many people close to me jumped in and shared their thoughts, prayers and good energy, there were those I was surprised by that were silent and I thought maybe they didn’t dig in. So I tried an experiment and what I found was:
Most people scan and only a few read
In February, I helped drive two days of wearing red in support of heart health and the American Heart Association. I asked the team to wear red on National Go Red Day early in the month and again for the Go Red for Women luncheon later in the month. If my colleagues wore red, they got a heart healthy treat of almonds, dark chocolate or an apple, plus they were entered into a drawing for a $15 M’tucci’s gift card (one winner would be drawn for each day). I took pictures and loved seeing so many colleagues in their red ensembles. When the time came to announce the winners, I decided to create a collage of the photos and post it on red paper with the winners names bolded in the center of the sheet. A week had past and neither of the two winners claimed their prize. They didn’t notice it. Their colleagues didn’t notice it and mention it to them. Even when I said, “I think you should look at the bulletin board. There’s something cool on there.” That didn’t per sway the winners. It wasn’t until I handed out the gift cards that they felt compelled to check out the bulletin board.
I had something similar happen with a friend. Her day job has consumed her life. She didn’t slow down when the pandemic hit, in fact, her work ramped up and on top of it she has an ailing father. As a friend, I tried sending her a message that I wanted to talk to her…because when I could, I really tried to tell people in person what was going on with me. She didn’t respond. I tried sending her information on the fundraiser. I didn’t hear anything. Now it came for me to wrap up my work and help ensure a big event in the store would be successful and working with her on it would be, so I sent one last message just asking if there was someone within her organization could help. She said I was on her mind and on her list to call back. I think was frustrated and said, “well if she had time it would have to be within the next few days because I would be out beginning March 31st because of my surgery”. I didn’t mean to be so, blunt but I didn’t know what other way to get my message across and it did. She responded asking what she missed. Luckily we were able to get together and really talk through everything both personally and professionally.
Everyone is so inundated with everything around us: our professional lives, our personal lives and everything on social media and the internet, but how much do we really take in or “read” and how much do we by-pass without even knowing. I feed off of positivity and are so incredibly grateful for the love I have felt but also there have been a few moments when I was really shocked that I didn’t hear from someone. I try not to take it personal but there were moments, I did. I’ll use this analogy, people send flowers for funerals but what good does it do for the deceased? Send people flowers while they are alive to appreciate them. That is the same for notes of “I’m thinking of you”. Even when you don’t know what to say, just say that….say something. I love the pop up photos on the home screen of my iPhone. It pulls up random photos from my camera roll and I feel like that’s the universe sending me a reminder to check in on that person and let them know I’m thinking of them, especially when time has passed. You only die once, so make sure you’re living every day.
I always thought running would kill me but I never thought my music would
After sitting in my breast cancer surgeon’s office when I had my follow up appointment to discuss my genetic testing and pre-op, I had a thought. I am thrilled to report that my genetic testing came back 99.5% clear. My genes are doing what they are supposed to and their is no predisposition for breast cancer or other cancers. My other tests were clear as well. So of course, my overthinking mind started to think about possibilities in developing cancer in my left breast.
Here is what I concluded. I have run for the past 6 years with my mobile phone tucked in my left side sports bra…sitting right on top of my breast that way I could listen to my music and have my hands free. That’s when my conspiracy theory dawned on me (no actual scientific proof, but ladies, don’t put your cell phone in your bra just in case). Was the radiation from my mobile phone the cause?!? For those of you reading this that have had some sort of ailment or disease, after diagnosis have you become a hypochondriac or developed psychosomatic symptoms?
Before this ordeal, unless I was bleeding or had a bone sticking out, I’d suck it up and keep going. Now if my feet hurt or my back is sore, I’m ready to call my doctor, until I snap out of it and remember, “oh I work retail”. Really I do pay way more attention to what is happening but at times I feel like I’ve become a hypochondriac.
Flip the script on what you’ve been told
Since October 2020, I’ve been wanting to get back to NYC. I was called by an installation that was placed in front of the criminal courthouse building.
It is a sculpture of Medusa, but the story we’ve all been told has been changed. Medusa With The Head of Perseus is meant to question Medusa’s portrayal and narrative in Greek mythology and reimagine an inverted narrative. I wanted to sneak away in December and see it, but because of travel and time off restrictions, I couldn’t get away. As I was going through all my appointments, I was trying to figure out if I would be able to get to NYC before the statue was removed at the end of April. And all points were leading to “no” after surgery. So, I made a plan to go before.
After surgery was scheduled, I decided to book a flight a week before. I would fly out Tuesday and fly back Wednesday. I was nervous. I had both consciences in my head, my angel and the devil on opposing sides whispering in my ears. I booked a Southwest flight and figured if I couldn’t make it, it would be an easy change. I used points for the room. There were two things I had to do and several more I wanted to do.
After an agonizing night of sleep, dreaming the Gestapo was after me for flying into NYC, I got up grabbed my minimally packed backpack: a clean outfit, chargers, masks and sanitizing spray, wallet and travel items, and headed to the airport. I got on the plane. There was mechanical issues and again I questioned what I was doing. We took off, had a layover in Houston, and arrived in NYC just after 4:00pm.
I grabbed a Lyft and headed straight to Collect Pond Park. I got out. From afar, I could see her. There weren’t very many other people at the park: a mom with her two small children, a man on the phone and another walking his dog. I stood in front of her, took photos and I started to cry.
There are moments in our life that the story has been written about us or for us, but here, she was looking back at me reminding me, I WRITE MY OWN STORY.
I noticed someone had broken off her sword, but that didn’t matter. She stood there as a warrior with justice in her hands, claiming her own narrative. I was filled with strength and was reminded that I too am a warrior. I grabbed a Lyft and headed to my next stop Pier 17.
I had reserved a cabin for dinner on top of the pier overlooking the Brooklyn Bridge. The weather was absolutely gorgeous for a March day. It was overcast, but it was warm. I ordered a bite and walked around the pier. I gazed at the Brooklyn Bridge recalling my wish to be there someday at sunrise. I then went around the corner and was surprised to find the Statue of Liberty in the distance. It was an incredible unexpected moment. Walking around the pier, I was reminded of the last time I was there, just after showing in London Fashion week. I had a fun evening celebrating that impactful event in my life and congratulating the person I was with on his achievement of the opening that particular bar. Unfortunately, the bar hadn’t opened since last March. However, a wonderful flush of memories came across me as I was making new ones.
It was now 7:30pm and I opted to head to the hotel and check in. I had stayed at his hotel last September with Josie and chose it for it’s central location. I was craving Magnolia Bakery cake, so after dropping off my bag and cleaning up, I walked down the Ave of the America’s near Radio City Music Hall and got a slice of the sugary, buttery, chocolatey goodness. I then went to Times Square it get my sensory overload fix. After all the feels, I headed back to the hotel and fell asleep watching Friends.
I don’t know what it is about NYC, but I always sleep so well…better than I have in months. I slowly got up. The plan for this day was mass at St. Patrick’s cathedral, shopping at Macy’s and maybe finding fabric at Mood before I headed back to the hotel. I headed out walking on 5th Avenue and as I do when walking alone with earbud in my ears…I strutted myself as if I were on a catwalk. I was reminded about a message I had received the week before from a friend:
I have seen you fight and fight and keep hope and no matter what life throws at you.. that is why I say you are one that inspires me to be strong and keep fighting what life throws at me.. You’re an artist a creator a beautiful human being you have overcome divorce being a single parent being a business owner getting your love and passion in New York City and other places around the world for your ideas and creations to walk down the runway And be seen by all… Now it is your turn to walk down the runway called life I am sure the models before they walk out they are nervous anxious scared afraid that they might fall or trip or have an accident but either way they wait their turn and they walk out and as the lights hit them and they’re blinded can’t see they Chin up and take one step in front of the other and I know you will do the same with this part of your life you will walk tall and straight, make it to the end and walk back… Just make sure you have your heels on I want to hear the sound of power through all of this… I will never forget that you said that to me….. I have some shoes now that make the exact same sound as high heels walking on a hard floor and every time I go walking instead of wondering if I’m annoying people that are around because they are loud I hear Dara in my head saying Joseph That is the Sound of power. Soldiers wear boots Dara wears heels 👠
I walked a little taller as I remembered his text.
I arrived at St. Patrick’s and I was home. Attendees dotted the church for the service. It was the first time I had been in a church for mass in over a year (although I watch daily via YouTube). It was weird to not hold hands for the Our Father, not shake hands for peace and go to communion with a mask. I was filled with hope and happiness and went to my patron saint, St. Jude, and lit a candle for me and another for you. With peace, I headed on to my next stop Nintendo World (a special request). I went on to Mood. I really wanted to get some knit jersey to create a wrap dress for post operative wardrobe, but I knew I wouldn’t have time to sew so while I was inspired, I opted to move on.
I arrived at Macy’s, with hopes of two things: getting my brows waxed and finding after-surgery friendly but fashionable clothes. I did both. Hallelujah! I headed out grabbed Cava on the way back to my hotel. Already checked out, I sat in the corner of the lobby and noshed on the Mediterranean goodness while repacking my stuff. Within the hour, I headed back to LGA. While it was a short trip, I was glad I did it. There might be some reading thinking what are you doing traveling during a pandemic and a week before surgery…but it was what I needed to flip the script on what’s happening and believe me it was just what I needed!
Be Somebody
In my last blog, I made the call to action and so many people supported it. Thank you from the bottom of my heart:
As I stated in that post, I felt compelled to do something for women who might not have the access or financial means for reconstructive surgery (if they wanted it) and that really bothered me! So, I quickly put this campaign together, reached out to Melanie and Michelle at Achievement Gallery and they helped me create this fun t-shirt that should get people talking. They were incredible in putting together the best price to ensure more money would go to charity and that I would have them out to you in time for my upcoming surgery.
I finally found the perfect beneficiary for this fundraiser (and there are SO many good ones in the space of breast cancer support). Anita Salas Memorial Fund will be receiving $1300 – this Grassroots NM fund of 20+ years; all the money stays in NM to help women all over the state of NM; Anita Salas does not pay for any staff or overhead expenses; 95 cents of every dollar helps a woman (or man) with breast cancer or cervical cancer; 5% overhead/fundraising.
What resonates is that I actually helped outfit the models for this organization’s fundraiser, Lovelace Girls Night Out, back in 2019 (the last time we had in-person events). This is where I met my breast surgeon (who always tells me that she has to dress up when I come to see her) and where I felt a tie, at the time, because it supports cervical cancer (what my mom had) and breast cancer (and now me). ❤️ It came full circle.
I am grateful to everyone for being my somebody. While I know I live alone, I am in no way alone.
Dress with intention
I’ve agonized on what to wear to surgery, because I wanted to be comfortable but to wear something more than sweats. Today, I choose a button up blouse that was my mom’s (total 80’s, plus I feel like she’s with me), a pair of black pull on joggers with pockets because who knows what I’m going to have to put in them and zebra patterned mules with embellished bows to remind me La Vita E Un Dono. I’ll have my angel coin with me and all the good energy, prayers and love you all have sent. I always feel more confident and powerful when I put thought into what I wear and this was once again the case…plus it felt more comforting to have my mom wrapped around me this way.
I love all these gifts I’ve been given in the in the past few weeks. It’s crazy what you learn about yourself and those around you when life happens. It’s not lost on me what a powerful and humbling week it is. Paying close attention to others have been through, spiritually, has helped me understand my path and it has reminded me that experience has made me appreciate more, and reminded me of the warrior I am. This is the day! Rejoice and be glad in it!!
Thank you and I’ll see you on the flip side. With light and love, Dara Sophia Romero
This post’s title started differently, until this week, when a memory from last year came up on social media. It was 2020 and I had just submitted my portfolio for Project Runway for the 5th time. This time they were pursuing my application. I made it to the third and in-person interview round. Within weeks, the world was closing its borders and I couldn’t fly to Austin for my interview. I pivoted quickly and I pulled in friends for help: 6 beautiful and different models, two fabulous make-up artists and two incredible hairstylists. In my friend’s hair salon, we jumped on Skype (yes, this was before Zoom and Teams were household names). As we waited to be connected to the interviewer, the governor was on the air putting into effect a stay-at-home order for the next two weeks. As weeks turned into months, Project Runway was halted as were most plans for 2020. It’s funny how the unknown, our fears and even our wants make us anxious. I’ve wanted to live in NYC and work in fashion for years. But it wasn’t my time (it will be–I PROMISE THAT). It was a different time and different reason for anxiety, but it is no less profound today! However I believe that uncertainty, that anxiousness, leads us to purpose.
How can you NOT feel better about your day after hearing Rylyn Clark sing Three Little Birds.
How are you? I know the last post may have been way too much information shared, but I needed to get it out of my system. Writing it out made it easier for me to share what I’ve been through and all the emotions, while pointing people to the post vs. reliving those emotions over and over again every time I was asked. There were so many of you who reached out in concern and as I told you personally, I will take all the prayers, good energy, positive thoughts, especially bits of humor and love you have to share.
What do you say when someone tells you they have cancer? Heck! I didn’t know how to tell you! But I’ve learned to take ownership of it because that is the way I can overcome it. I also didn’t fault those who didn’t know what to say. I had dinner with a dear friend the other night who is a breast cancer survivor and she admitted she didn’t know what to say when I told her. I’ve had responses from everything like the super positive about everything response, to wanting to know every detail about my cancer and treatment, to not knowing what to say, to remaining silent. I get them all. But I think the two most surprising responses I received were the least expected.
In the last post, I talked about a friend who had received her own cancer diagnosis. We had chatted a bit over text when she received my card. However, I didn’t burden her with my diagnosis. Yet surprising to me, on the day of her surgery, she took the time to tell me that she had heard about mine. MIND BLOWN and heart filled with love!
Just do it! It might be more profound that you think.
The other response was also totally unexpected, and occurred when I posted a selfie in my hospital gown and used hashtag #CTScanChic. Yes, I am a dork, but I plan to chronicle my medical gown fashion. I may have been diagnosed with cancer, but I will not let it rob me of my sense of humor and my joy. I am not making light of my current health, but instead saying, “fuck you cancer”. Anywho, I received a response from someone I met a few years ago when I was involved with 1 Million Cups. We are acquaintances and FB friends. I was asked if I was okay and I responded, “there’s a bump in the road but I will be”. I explained my current health and said that I would not let it rob me of my joy. This person offered rides to appointments and to sit with me at treatments if needed. The power of sitting with someone (either physically or just in thought) and not only in their moments of celebration but in their difficulties–to me–there is nothing more loving. Oh and I was told me that I rocked the medical gown. YASS!! Remember this: it costs nothing to be kind, yet is priceless to the receiver.
So here’s where I’m at today. After meeting with my surgeon, I was referred to a reconstructive surgeon consult, a breast MRI, a CT Scan, EKG, chest xray, blood work, a uterine ultrasound, another MRI, an oncologist consult, more blood work, and follow up appointment with breast surgeon.
The first appointment I had after my breast cancer surgeon was with the breast reconstruction surgeon. I appreciated her honesty yet considerate care for my health and lack of a better word, vanity. Although my cancer surgeon couldn’t determine my treatment plan until after the next rounds of tests, the reconstruction surgeon mentioned that generally she didn’t consult unless there was a mastectomy involved. She explained the different options for reconstruction. The options that I was really not up for took fat and muscle from either my back or stomach. While I’m all for the removal of fat, I wasn’t keen on removing muscle. The next option was implants. This seemed to have the quickest recovery time. However she explained that because it’s a foreign object being introduced to the body that it may breakdown and require replacement in 10-15 years…don’t really want to go back for surgery if I don’t need to. The final option, she mentioned that might be a possibility would be for the woman that has excess fat in the belly, she’d remove it and use it to create the breast. She explained that it might be a breast reduction, lift and tuck. I know my eyes lit up, sparkling, at this option. My Buddha belly would be tucked?!? I’d get a breast reduction and lift?!? Maybe this isn’t such a bad thing? Do you think I should share this photo as the blueprint? Yes? No?
According to my doctor, the only problem with the last option is the fact that there have been cases where my particular insurance wouldn’t cover the surgery. What the what?!? I don’t quite understand why not, so I’m investigating more because it seems like it would be the perfect option. We talked about the fact that if I needed chemotherapy or radiation how that might change the course she’d take. While still not having the full picture. I left feeling hopeful with a few more answers.
I hadn’t spilled the beans on my diagnosis to the majority yet, because I was so proud of this work and wanted to highlight it. When the virtual Go Red For Women Luncheon and Fashion Show happened. I was in a MRI. I came out to find so many messages of love for the work I did on this. Empowering others through fashion and finding your own style is my happy place. You can click on the link to see these community hero models do their thing!
My next appointment was my breast MRI. As I was completing my paperwork, I noticed the comment about feeling claustrophobic and if I needed a sedative I’d need to tell them right away. I had never had an MRI…how would I know if I needed a sedative?!? I think my heart started beating faster and when I’m anxious or scared I start cracking jokes. This time I had to get an IV and I was sweating it. I climbed into the cradle, face down and let the girls go free. I was asked what Pandora radio station I’d like to listen to. I asked for Lady Gaga radio as it’s my go to when I’m sewing and I knew it would help me forget where I was at. I actually had a beautiful view of the courtyard and the technician got started. I don’t know if Lady Gaga was the best choice because I REALLY WANTED TO DANCE and you can’t move in the machine or they have to start over. The marking fluid started coursing through my veins and it was a weird warming sensation that started in my arm moved through to the back of my throat, and down my body. About 30-40 minutes later, the MRI was complete and I was told how well I did. Now I had to go through the rest of the day with a line across my forehead from where I was laying on the MRI cradle, but it was completed.
#CTScanChic
The following day was my CT Scan. It was a morning appointment, so I figured I could complete this appointment, complete the EKG and chest scan and then all I’d have to do is my blood work. I had no idea how crazed this day would be (and later I would realize it was a full moon…and then it all made sense). I arrived at the facility and within a half hour had to drink 32 ounces of water with a marking fluid. Big dummy should have brought a book but I didn’t and being in an x-ray facility, I was in a dead zone for internet access, so as I was sitting there, it gave me time to think (uh oh!!). I realized at that moment how attitude plays such an important part in life. I also decided I would chronicle this part in my life so in a year I can go back and say, this was a blip in my life, so I took my first #medicalgownselfie.
About 30 minutes later, the technician came by and and asked a slew of questions. I could tell you them all from memory because the same ones are asked over and over again, but HIPPA prevents me from sharing that with you (I hope you realize that was a joke?!?). When I told him what I did for my occupation, he was stopped in his tracks. It was like a gift was delivered to him. He said his wife could use my help. She was a busy CEO and really needed help with her wardrobe and asked that I didn’t tell her he said this (so mums the word, ok?!?). YES, I PIMP MY SERVICES AT MY APPOINTMENTS. He really was super excited about my work, but stopped himself, and said this time was about me. However he would get my contact information from me after the scan. Little did he know I would much rather focus on others than my impending stick with an IV and having x-rays shot at me. After the appointment, I left my contact information (and after that day, I now have my business cards with me all the time) and have an appointment with her in a week. 😉
I got into my jeep with a plan to go get my other scans done when I went to start it and it wouldn’t turn over. I had been having issues so I called AAA and told them I think I had an issue with my battery. They sent the service company out. As I sat there, I realized it was time to share my diagnosis with other family members, friends and tell my colleagues at work. I was finally in a good place emotionally to do it. The tow truck arrived and the technician jumped my battery. He didn’t have a replacement battery with him, but said he could run back to the shop and see if they had one there but it would be another 30 minutes. I thanked him but declined.
Instead, I headed to work and sent a text to my brother to see if he could switch out my battery. He mentioned he was at work but within the next hour he’d come by and check it out. I parked it in front of Macy’s instead of the employee parking lot to make it easier for him to get to. When he arrived he came in to get my keys and went back out to get to work. Within that period of a few minutes, he walked out and found a man standing next to it with my driver’s side door open. The guy obviously startled, made the comment that it was a nice jeep. My brother agreed and asked him if it was his. When he declined, my brother told him to get away from it.
This TOTALLY was the theme for the day….no matter what tried to fuck it up! Thank you Laurie!
So the guy left the scene and my brother found that he had jacked up the ignition rod. He called me out to take a look at it. I contacted my Asset Protection manager and she brought in mall security. We went over all the details and gave a description to the man and his vehicle. I contacted my uncle to see if he knew a shop that he trusted that could fix it. He said give him a few minutes and he’d call back. He did and asked to have it towed to his house; he’d be able to replace it. The tow truck arrived however because we couldn’t put it in neutral and turn the wheels to get it on the truck. I had to track down the vehicle owner across from me in the next row. Luckily, I knew who it was and got it moved. That saga for the moment was resolved. I am so grateful for my brother, my uncle and my aunt (who later made sure I had a Club). By the time I went inside the word had gotten out and everyone showed their concern. My colleague and friend, Joe, bought me a coffee. I went back to my office and found something on my table. I was concerned as to what might be waiting for me because it was kind of that day, but instead it was a super thoughtful card and “lucky wine glass” from my friend, Laurie. I had missed her text, but it was the perfect way to end that day. As promised, my uncle delivered the Jeep and I went home, exhausted.
Game day look: warrior hair, vibrant color, sport yet fashionable tee, agile animal print and kicks to help me jump this hurdle (I always dress with intention).
Next day, was game day! SO I dressed for the occasion. I got up with a sense of purpose and decided to leave early to stop by my gram and aunt’s home to pick up the Club and to see their faces because I hadn’t seen them in months. I made them promise to not make me cry. LOL! I went to start the Jeep and no luck. I texted my aunt for a ride and asked my brother and uncle if one of them could stop by to check it out. My brother mentioned the connections being loose so he would stop by. I got to work reviewed my schedule and set the day. My follow up appointment with my breast cancer surgeon was during lunch and thankfully, Ang agreed to go with me and be my Uber driver. She picked me up and asked if I was going on vacation. I told her that I was running away…but really it was my game day look. We arrived at the office and sat in the hall like we were in trouble and waiting for the principle (social distanced waiting area). I know we were both anxious so what do we do when we’re anxious, we crack jokes.
Called into the doctor’s office. We sat there and waited. Waiting is the worst part. The nucleus of all my appointment scheduling and the person makes my visits more enjoyable, came in and checked on us, pulled up my profile on the computer screens and said the doctor would be with us shortly. Before she left we noticed a crocheted ball. Ang asked what it was for and she responded it is a prosthesis of sorts. She continued explaining that it was for women who could not afford reconstructive surgery. That stopped me in my tracks!
WHAT THE FUCK!?! I understand having it available for women who choose not do reconstructive surgery, but in this day and age, not having it done because of a financial barrier? A few years ago, without insurance, that could have been me. That made me sad, pissed off and grateful, all at the same time.
After writing this post, I went back to my insurance and found this graphic. This doesn’t include the impending surgery nor care after the fact. Again, I am incredibly grateful that I have health insurance but now compelled more than ever to do something.
Now if you don’t read anything else in this blog, I IMPLORE YOU TO READ THE VERY END because I have to do something and I have been scheming with a friend to do just that.
“At the end of the day, we can endure much more than we think we can.” – Frida Kahlo
We sat there quietly, I know I was contemplating what I just heard. The doc came in after what felt like an eternity. Okay great let’s get to work on this. She sat down and said she was going to review the scans. I could hear the prayers in my mind coming out of Ang’s mouth under her breath. She started with the MRI. It concluded there was nothing in my right breast as suspected and the tumor in my left was 4 inches. She also mentioned that the type of tumor was slow growing wouldn’t reduce in size with chemotherapy. However she was going to refer me to an oncologist for a second opinion. She confirmed that she would remove the entire breast. She pulled out her colored pens and paper and drew the path of the surgery (I didn’t get this copy so you won’t see a picture of my breast drawing again, sorry). My latest rounds of tests did detect a spot or two on my liver, so she was going to request a liver MRI and I was happy that Ang didn’t exclaim that I needed to stop indulging in my cocktails and wine. I really didn’t want to have to kick her under the desk. And I guess, it’s a good thing I gave up alcohol for lent (fingers crossed). She also said they found a spot in my uterus. She thought it might be a fibroid but wanted to make sure. I am so incredibly grateful for the comprehensive care I am receiving, for health insurance and especially for having Ang right there with me!!
I still needed to get my scans and blood work done. I explained my previous day’s debacle. And informed the doctor that I’d get it done in the next few days. Ang offered to take me after my appointment but I had already been gone from work for 2 hours and really, I didn’t want to go. Damn needles! Why do I hate you so?
“the way she talked about the things she loved made the whole room turn to see what shone” – atticus
I went into the weekend and decided I needed more color in my life. I was tired of winter and this may make you gasp, but I was tired of black. So I started pulling my most colorful looks and posting color on social media from the floor. The girls got together and we went to celebrate Lee’s new job. The world was starting to open again and it was perfect timing.
Monday rolled around and I had my uterine ultrasound at 8am. I got there with a full bladder of water and an urgent desire to void, but I had to hold it in. The first part was an over the belly ultrasound. As she moved the device around I was hoping not to pee on the exam table. Once that was complete, I was given the opportunity to relieve myself.
Seriously felt like Austin Powers “evacuation” scene
I went back into the room and was asked to remove my clothing…now I’m not going to share the intimate details of the next part of the exam but I feel like I should have been bought dinner first. Once complete, I was so relieved to hear the tech say that nothing looked out of the ordinary. If it had, she would have called the doctor in. Thank you, God!
I put on my big girl pants (literally and figuratively) and decided to go get my blood work done. I went to the lab and got in the chair again joking that I didn’t like needles or seeing my own blood. The tech took extra special care when he saw my enlarged eyes when he pulled the four vials out. Within minutes it was complete. I had plans to go for a bosque walk and a special dinner that evening. I passed on the walk and opted for a nap instead (I found out later that I am iron deficient).
Another perfect reminder that you have the power to positively impact someone.
When I woke up, I checked my email and found a note from a friend that works at the hotel I had my dinner reservation at. She asked if it was me that was holding the reservation. I confirmed it was and said if she was working I’d love to say, “hello” since it had been over a year since I had last seen her. I got ready and met my friend Eilene for her birthday dinner. When we arrived, we were taken to our table and our waitress brought out a split bottle of Prosecco for us from Nancy. I took a few sips but allowed the birthday girl to enjoy most of it. Then we were brought out a special treat from the Chef (you may know him is a current contestant on that little show Hell’s Kitchen). Chef Quinones came out and made sure that Nancy’s special guests were well taken care of. Later, I saw the email stating should wouldn’t be there when we arrived, but was doing something special for us. Thank you chef and Nancy! You really made us feel like VIPs!!
I think I still want to do the look in the bottom right corner, but I’ll definitely have to wear more makeup or I’ll look like an old bag lady. Sad, but true.
I had been going back and forth on whether or not I should chop my hair off. I was going from an extreme pixie, to bob, to only a few inches off to bringing back my bangs. I also wondered if I did have to have chemo, would I be able to rock a bald head like Sinead O’Connor or Demi Moore, in G.I. Jane. Then, I remembered, I had a big bobblehead and really shouldn’t think about it until it was a reality. I went to Pinterest: my go to for all my visions of grandeur. I pulled a few styles. I reached out to my stylist friend, Amanda, on her day off and explained my ordeal (sent her the link to my blog) that way she knew my backstory and we could talk about everything else beyond my recent diagnosis. I went in we talked ideas and BAM, this is what I settled with. Don’t get me wrong. I love my long hair, but it was getting in the way recently and all I ended up doing was putting it up.
A few days later I had my appointment with my oncologist. New Mexico Cancer Center is a machine. There were so many people there but it was very well organized. I checked in and the tech took my vitals and asked a slew of questions. Again everything from health history, to pregnancies, to what I did for my occupation. The text thought I had to be either a school teacher or something uplifting because of my bubbly personality. LOL! There was a deeper dive into those questions. I was asked about emotion and depression. I said I got most of it out in my blog and although I’ll go through emotion again, I’m in a good place now. She also talked about DNR orders, power of attorney and living will. And that bought the reality to the forefront.
I next went into the exam room and waited for my oncologist. She came in and sat down. Again her care and concern were exactly what I needed. We talked about my conversation with my breast surgeon and asked about my mental state. She also made sure that my work was supportive. She agreed with my surgeon and would not prescribe chemotherapy before surgery. She wanted to check the feel of the tumor, so she stepped out so I could change. After she said she didn’t feel that it was attached to my chest wall which was a good sign. However she couldn’t guarantee that I wouldn’t have chemotherapy after. The pathology of the tumor and removed lymph nodes would determine that, but she was hopeful and that made me EXTREMELY hopeful. She did ask that I do another blood draw. I tried to tell her that I gave on Monday. I asked if she could she get what she needed from those results. No. Such. Luck. Fuck, I hate needles. Yet, there again I went through the routine. This time I wasn’t entirely prepared. I hadn’t drank tons of water the night before or that morning, so my hidden, rolling veins did their thing so this time I cringed a little more, hurt a little more and bruised a little more. Now I have track arm (only because my left arm is the only one that cooperates).
I left there feeling good. I still have my liver MRI scheduled for next week and my genetic testing came back so I need to do that follow up appointment with my breast surgeon. They are still coordinating schedules for my surgery and with the state not allowing more than 50% capacity for this purpose, I’m truly hoping it can occur in a few weeks (I say that now and then when it’s scheduled I may flip a bit).
“We are all broken…that’s how the light gets in.” Hemingway
So if I point you here, when you ask how I’m doing, it’s not because I don’t want to talk about it, but if you’ve read this then you know it’s a lot of information and over time it gets jumbled a bit. Please continue to send prayers, good energy and juju. Please continue to send those texts and those who are okay to visit in person, I welcome it. AND really, I am happy to talk about anything, but cancer. I’ve been asked what people can do for me and there’s not much at the moment beyond this.
After surgery, I will need help with my rambunctious Coco-nut. She loves to take me for drags, and plays fiercely. Honestly, I think she thinks she’s only a 10 lbs dog when in reality she’s closer to a 45 lbs dog, that is ALL muscle. So this request isn’t for the weak. She’s a beast and I love her. However, I do have one thing you can do right now.
Sitting in my doctor’s office and hearing about the women with financial constraints preventing them from receiving all the care that they desire and deserve, I think about my own bills: co-pays, lab fees, deductibles, department fees and that doesn’t even include what’s coming. I realize how fortunate I am to have health insurance and savings to tap into, and because it’s me, I felt compelled to do something. Here is what I’m doing. Will you please join me?
I was diagnosed with Breast Cancer on February 18, 2021. While sitting in my surgeon’s office with my BFF, Ang, we noticed a crocheted ball and asked about it.
We were told, it is used by women who can’t afford reconstructive surgery and that made me grateful for my health insurance, but sad for the women who don’t have the same access. I wanted to create a shirt that people could wear in solidarity with me and those in their lives who are warriors of breast cancer, but also shirt whose proceeds benefit organizations that provide financial support to women’s breast cancer treatment.
Why WRONG GIRL?
Wrong girl is a phrase I’ve used when confronted by things that I’ve been able to conquer or achieve and have overcome throughout my life when I wasn’t “supposed to”. Don’t underestimate this GIRL! I’ve also included my sacred heart of Hopeless + Cause Atelier; this time in vibrant pink with the mantra #fightlikeagirl.
Working with the locally, woman owned business, Achievement Gallery (and my friend, Melanie), I hope you will purchase a shirt or two and wear it proudly. AND YES, real men and women wear pink.
This is a mock up of the shirt. It is unisex, cotton and sizes small through 3XL are available.
LIMITED TIME CAMPAIGN
Because time is of the essence, I wasn’t able to build proper functionality on my website for an ecommerce experience.
If you would like to order, please send an email to: designer@hopelesscauseatelier.com with the following: name, quantity, size or sizes (unisex, adult sizes: small through 3XL are available), and mailing address. You can scan this QPR code and pay by Paypal (if you prefer to pay by Zelle or Venmo note that in your email or you can send a check to PO Box 65035, Albuquerque, NM 87193).
The cost of each shirt is $25.00 and it is my hopes that more than 50% of the proceeds will benefit these charitable organizations (it just depends on my final order size).
Please place your order no later than Sunday, March 14th.
“i am trusting the uncertainty and believing i will end up somewhere right and good” – rupi kaur
I am wishing you all the blessings of the day. May you see wishes in the weeds and enjoy the sunrise, the sunset, the night skies and everything in between. May you love fully, truly, and not be afraid to reach out to people who are on your mind whether you talked to them yesterday or years ago. May your uncertainty lead you to purpose. Don’t put off what your soul desires. Empower those whom may never repay you. And may you know how much I appreciate you. There’s more to come!
It was early morning, a couple of weeks ago, when I was awoken from a deep sleep by the sound of a doorbell. As I laid there, trying to rub the sleep out of my eyes and calming my beating heart, I listened to hear if Coco was stirring. She wasn’t and I realized it was a dream. But like many dreams, I feel they are speaking to me, so I had to find out the meaning as to why I don’t recall anything else from my slumber, except for the sound of a doorbell.
I got out of bed and made myself a cup of coffee. As I often do, when I’m trying to what I’m being told subconsciously, I jumped on the internet and Googled, “what is the meaning behind doorbells in dreams”. I found:
To dream of hearing a doorbell represents unexpected news or unexpected waking life situations. To dream of ringing a doorbell represents your attempt to draw attention to yourself or some issue. You may be surprising someone else with something they weren’t expecting.
dreams.metroeve.com
This post is the hardest thing I’ve written to date, and I have written about some very difficult topics for me: failure, loss, betrayal and injustice. However, being vulnerable and raw in these posts have helped me: to move through emotions, these particular life events, and to understand myself and the world around me. In writing about these adversities, it has also helped me to be grateful and find joy in what is around me. So I add a warning to this post, if you’re looking for an ooey-gooey, happy ending, I don’t know that I can deliver it this time, but I promise it is another honest look at myself and the world around me through my Ms. Adventures with a twist of humor.
After this dream, I knew I had to wake up! In the past couple of days, I had told those close to me that I had felt a lump in my left breast and had scheduled an appointment with my gynecologist to take next steps. It was unnerving. It took me to a dark place, but a heavy burden was released when I could talk about my fears.
Vanity and cancer
It has been on my mind for weeks. If you’ve ever witnessed a loved one or you, yourself, have gone through treatment, you know what I mean.
Losing your hair. The sickness and nausea. The poison that courses through your veins. In many cases, your body is carved to remove the enemy.
And you are left a different person.
And if the cancer doesn’t kill you.
Are you still whole?
Do you learn to appreciate the sun rise? The full moon? The sound of birds? The hum of the city? The smile of a stranger? The way your body looks? Why aren’t you appreciating it now?
And why does vanity weigh so heavily?
I knew nothing about what this lump was, but it took me to a place that I had tucked away years ago, my experience with cancer. My mom was diagnosed with cervical cancer when I was 16 or 17, she quietly went into treatment and at the end, she was in remission. She had milestone appointments to ensure that the cancer didn’t return. After her 5th year, she received a clean bill of health. However within a few months, she experienced debilitating headaches, so when she went back in to see her doctors and they found lesions on her brain. I went with her to her oncology appointment where the doctor explained the findings. He made a comment that, while in shock, stopped me. He suggested she get her affairs in order. Overwhelmed by the information, we left. I went back to work and in relaying the information to my uncle, whom I worked with, I was struck by that comment and decided to call the doctor. He blatantly told me, “typically this diagnosis means she has 6 to 9 months to live.” I never told my mom this.
As her treatment started, I was with her when she chopped her long beautiful black hair to make way for a shorter do and the potential of the shorter locks falling off due to chemotherapy and radiation treatments. Outwardly, she remained in good spirits. Six months passed and it seemed the cancer was subsiding. I thought it to be a true miracle and spent as much time with her as I could while raising my young family. Around the ninth month, the cancer settled in her spine which caused her to be somewhat paraplegic. Confined to a hospital bed in a rehabilitation center, I had learned to help with her catheter and check and clean her bed sores. After a couple of months, she was released to her home. I would go over daily and sit with her, talk about anything and everything, help her move her muscles and other things as needed. My grandparents had moved in full-time with her. As much as I wanted every breath of her life I could get, by the grace of God, I asked for her suffering to end. On June 22, 1996 she succumbed to cancer.
This is the most detailed writing about my mom’s journey I have written to date. I’m not going to lie, it hit as hard as it did living through it, but I think it’s important for me to finally realize this is what cancer is for me. Although I have many loved ones who are survivors and thrivers, and so many medical advances have occurred in the past 25 years, this traumatic experience is has been imprinted within my psyche.
You’re broken down and tired Of living life on a merry go round And you can’t find the fighter But I see it in you so we gonna walk it out And move mountains We gonna walk it out And move mountains And I’ll rise up I’ll rise like the day I’ll rise up I’ll rise unafraid <afraid, but putting on a brave face under my smile>
Rise Up, Andra Day
I went from feeling shame for my own vanity, to not wanting to place that type of burden on my own children (even though I would do it all over again for my mom if I had the opportunity to have her here with me), to hating not having control of the unknown. All this, while not even having my gynecological appointment yet. I only told my mini’s, my brother, my aunt and a few of my closest friends.
I went to my appointment and was so grateful when offered to be driven by my loves. I explained my concern about the lump, but was able to get a few laughs out of the nurse and doc…when talking about my life or lack thereof and was dumbfounded when asked if I was happy about my weight. I looked at the doc with a blank stare and wanted to ask, “does anyone answer, ‘yes’, to that question?” She prescribed a diagnostic mammogram and ultrasound. After my appointment, I sat in the parking lot and called the Breast Imaging Center and lucked out to get an appointment within the next week. Then, I was reminded I was not alone when my angel numbers 11:11 and 12:22 appeared that day. As I do, to get out of my head, I put my whole self into work, until, it came to my mammogram appointment. Again, while I was so grateful for the offers to take me, I opted to go alone. I have never heard from anyone who has gone through this experience describe it as enjoyable. I have never been more contorted, smashed and uncomfortable than during the mammogram. Being told to take a deep breath and hold it, made me feel like I was going to pass out. The plan was to do my mammogram and followed by my blood work. That was nixed after I had to sit there drinking water to get my blood pumping into my head again.
Made my peace with the river And went to sleep Floating up to the surface Graciously I made my way to the arms of the open sea Took my soul to the heart of the endless deep But I breathe I breathe, I breathe, I breathe, I breathe
Breathe, Ellem
After the mammogram, I was taken to another room for the ultrasound as I laid down, I took in my surroundings: the low lit room, the wind chimes hanging from the ceiling, Magic 99.5 playing softly in the background. The kind technician asked me to turn slightly to my side and she got to work imaging my right breast, stopping and clicking along the way. She moved over to the left and took a multitude of images, then brought in the doctor. He looked at the images and informed me they were going to schedule a biopsy the following week. He also wanted to connect me to the nurse navigator after I was dressed. I met with her and she gave me some paperwork with definitions on how to read my pathology report. She mentioned their go-to surgeon and if the need arises she would connect me with that office. I left feeling a little overwhelmed and a little sore, but went to work. A few hours later, the nurse navigator called and informed me she was going to forward my contact information to the surgeon as a precautionary measure.
I am rereading The Alchemist and I always stop at the introduction story because of the beautiful twist to the what we’ve been told. May you always share the reflection of the beauty in others. “The alchemist picked up a book that someone in the caravan had brought. Leafing through the pages, he found a story about Narcissus. The alchemist knew the legend of Narcissus, a youth who knelt daily beside a lake to contemplate his own beauty. He was so fascinated by himself that, one morning, he fell into the lake and drowned. At the spot where he fell, a flower was born, which was called the narcissus. But this was not how the author of the book ended the story. He said that when Narcissus died, the goddesses of the forest appeared and found the lake, which had been fresh water, transformed into a lake of salty tears. ‘Why do you weep?’ the goddesses asked. ‘I weep for Narcissus,” the lake replied. ‘Ah, it is no surprise that you weep for Narcissus,’ they said, ‘for though we always pursued him in the forest, you alone could contemplate his beauty close at hand.’ ‘But… was Narcissus beautiful?’ the lake asked. ‘Who better than you to know that?’ the goddesses asked in wonder. ‘After all, it was by your banks that he knelt each day to contemplate himself!’ The lake was silent for some time. Finally, it said: ‘I weep for Narcissus, but I never noticed that Narcissus was beautiful. I weep because, each time he knelt beside my banks, I could see, in the depths of his eyes, my own beauty reflected.’ ‘What a lovely story,’ the alchemist thought.” ― Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist (copied from Good Reads)
The next day I was blessed by friends, Carla and Allen, to again style and outfit the young adults from the Ranches. It is humbling to me, to see the work you do empower others. This time 14 young ladies were so incredibly grateful for the gift of a new outfit and I could see how beautiful, comfortable and confident they all felt in it. I was reminded of the power we have even when we are struggling ourselves.
Valentine’s Day was that Sunday and my biopsy was the following Monday. Indoor dining had finally opened up and I wanted to go out with friends on Saturday night. I sent a message to my gurl gang to see who might be available. I had planned on hosting Galentine’s at home that Saturday but because I ended up working I didn’t have time to clean and cook. I needed to get out of my head. I am the girl that has tattoos but is afraid of needles and boy was I fixated on the needles. I was not looking forward to the appointment and on my way home had a mild panic attack. I got home, remembered to breathe, let go and played with my Coco(-nut). I went to bed exhausted, yet woke up at 4am trying to catch my breath.
“I am awake, I see the sun. I am going to give my gratitude to the sun and to everything and to everyone because I am alive. One more day to be myself.” Don Miguel Ruiz, The Four Agreements
I got up and conquered my morning routine: reading, journaling, mass, drag by Coco, exercise and headed into work. I was looking for dresses for clients when I came across the perfect night out dress.
I made the decision that I wanted to dress up on Saturday, so I asked the girls the same. I got some push back and with the impending storm there were concerns about going out. I don’t know if it was the lack of sleep compounded with all the feels, but I flipped a bit: “So this shit has me freaked out…because of my own past experiences with cancer. I just need something a little extra because that’s how I am. I don’t care if it’s Mac’s Steak in the Ruff. I just need to get out and get out of my head. I understand if you can’t make it and appreciate those who can.”
“There will be times when standing alone feels too hard, too scary, and we’ll doubt our ability to make it through the uncertainty. Someone, somewhere, will say, ‘Don’t do it. You don’t have what it takes to survive the wilderness.’ This is when you reach deep into your wild heart and remind yourself, ‘I AM the wilderness.'” – Brene Brown, Braving the Wilderness
Luckily, when you are surrounded by the best people who see and don’t judge, your soul and being are in a safe place to be understood even in flip out moments. The power in truly being seen is that in times of celebration and times of vulnerability you feel absolutely the same way. I am grateful they see me. I worked a crazy busy day on Saturday (all those last minute shoppers getting their Valentine’s gifts before the winter storm set in). I got home, put on my dress, blew out my hair, put makeup on and threw on heels. It had been a year since I got this dressed up. Denise picked me up and we laughed the whole way there talking about something that would actually fit and how we don’t know how to wear heels anymore. We got our table in the low lit dining room of Copper Lounge and it was wonderful to see so many people enjoying each other’s company, the food and libations. It felt like a time long ago in a galaxy far away (just checking to see if you are really reading this). Ang and Lee arrived and we spent the evening laughing and in thoughtful conversation while drinking and eating too much. I shared various life stories and it led to another conversation about a childhood friend’s mother, and her cancer diagnosis. My heart hurt.
— Word Porn
Although I hadn’t talked to him for quite sometime, I decided to reach out with my care and concern. He responded with his mom’s address. I sent her a note that included this message (above) I found just a few days before and all my love and prayers. While I hadn’t seen her for a number of years, she is one of the strongest women I know. I told her if she needed anything, she only needed to ask.
Monday rolled around and my KK took me to the biopsy appointment. When I was taken into the ultrasound room, I joked with the tech saying, “don’t laugh when I tell you I hate needles and you see my torso tattoos”. She laughed and I was glad I had a sense of humor. As I laid exposed on the examination table, the tech used the ultrasound to pinpoint the areas on my right and left breasts and marked them with a sharpie. Once complete, she brought in the doctor for the procedure. He explained that each area would sting and burn with the numbing solution and that he would count to three and then I’d hear a click for the sample taken. Finally, he explained that he’d be inserting a little titanium tag and that I would take a few more mammograms to xray that were in place. I’m sure I was covered in sweat and I held tight to my angel coin. However, it was not as bad as I thought it would be at all. Thank you, GOD! And, bonus, I couldn’t feel the mammogram.
They bandaged the entry points and packed me with Cardinal Health ice packs, which made me smile. I headed out with a reminder that it might take 2-5 days to get the results. The anticipation and anxiety of the biopsy wore me out. I was glad this step was over.
KK and I headed out. We stopped by Target for some Tylenol and she took me home. I immediately took the Tylenol and warmed some apple pie for her to eat. It started to get really cold again and I forgot to grab fire logs from Target, so I reached out to Isaiah asking him to bring me a couple on his way home. I also received a text from Denise telling me not to eat because dinner was going to be delivered at 5pm. Isaiah arrived and asked how the day went. I explained the procedure and he turned as quessy as I did when talking about needles. He shared with me he received a raise at work and that made me happy that he was being recognized for what he does. About that time, the doorbell rang and Denise arrived with an armful of pizzas and a bag. I thought maybe she was dropping one off and taking the rest home.
“You can always tell who the strong women are. They are the ones you see building one another up, instead of tearing each other down.” unknown
She placed them on the table and told me the girls were coming over. It was a school night and had been a cold wintery day. I couldn’t believe they were doing this for me. It was the best surprise ever!! Going back and forth of 30 minutes of icing my chest and 30 minutes off, we had a lively conversation filled with laughter, tears, and smiles with pizza, salad and wine. We made plans to get out of town as soon as we could. I was also so grateful to receive text messages from my Laura and my aunt Lisa. I was exhausted but felt so loved.
There’s always space for pretty little things
Back to work, I agonized about receiving the news. I had an appointment with the surgeon on Friday. I received a call, which I thought was pushing out my appointment to the following week because they hadn’t received authorization from my insurance. Later I found out that it was for a MRI appointment not the consultation. Wednesday night when I got home, I realized I missed a call from the radiologist. Too late in the day, I called first thing Thursday morning.
He was blunt and matter of fact. The pathology report determined that the mass in my right breast was benign. However the report found that the tissue sample taken from my left breast was found to be lobular carcinoma. I don’t remember what he said after that. I said, “thank you” at the end of the call, hung up and tears ran down my face. While I always knew in my gut it was more than just a lump, hearing it from the doctor finally cemented it. Luckily, I was in my back office at the time. I reached out and informed the group and Ang responded that she was on her way.
She sat with me for a little over an hour. We talked and laughed…laughter really is the best medicine. She asked what time my appointment was the next day and asked if she could take me. I said, “yes”. I went through the rest of the day with an out of body experience feeling.
That afternoon, I was working on a project when I heard “Gloria” by Laura Branigan. I was immediately taken back to “Flashdance” and Jeanie’s ice skating scene. It reminded me that no matter how well you are skating through life or how prepared you think you are, sometimes you get knocked down. Sometimes you fall hard! However, it’s not what knocked you on your ass that counts; it’s how you get back up.
I asked Ang to pick me up from work at 11:30am. She arrived promptly at that time. We arrived at the surgeon’s office about 10 minutes later. I was grateful that not only she could go in to the waiting area with me but they welcomed her into the consultation office. I needed an extra pair of ears and I know Angela would ask questions if I forgot to.
There were various stages meeting with different people from the team. They took my vitals and checked to see if I was bloated. They broke down my body weight, which later Ang and I laughed hysterically about when she thought I had memorized it (I couldn’t remember what time I told her to pick me up and she thought I’d remember the breakdown of my muscle mass and fat?!?). I knew the doctor; I had actually outfitted a year and a half before for a community fundraiser. She recognized that and we talked about work. She was very calming and provided overview of what the mammogram and biopsy found. However because of the type of cancer, she prescribed an MRI and wouldn’t be able to determine the treatment plan until she was able to review those findings. So she had her team schedule the MRI, a follow up appointment, blood work, and ct scan. They provided a referral for a reconstructive surgeon just in case one was needed. She also asked if I wanted to do genetic testing. I totally opted to do it. I want to be able to share those results with my minis and was super happy that the test was taken from saliva vs. blood. I made Ang laugh again when I had a hard time trying to fill the test tube with spit.
Throughout it all, so far, I have received incredible support and care. I am grateful for loved ones that have have been so supportive and have seen me…and not fragile like a flower but fragile like a bomb (like that, Ang). I appreciate that my health providers are taking an aggressive approach. I have been told how strong I am. I don’t feel it and in moments of self-pity, I wonder why I have to continue to show my strength, but at the end of the day I’m a fighter. I don’t know what the future brings but I am grateful for the day in front of me. I continue to focus on enjoying life to the fullest in this moment and sharing it with those who want to be part of it.
PC: Erin Killion Photography
I appreciate those who have taken time out of their lives to check on me. For those of you I didn’t tell right away, I didn’t know how to. What do you say, “how are you? well, I have cancer…”? So, bear with me as this is my way. Blogging has always been cathartic for me. It’s the best way for this overthinker to say what she needs to say and share what she’s feeling, and I get to hide behind the screen and be vulnerable without feeling shame. If you see me, please don’t act differently. I don’t know how to act and I’ll make a face and run away. I need laughter. I need conversation. I need authenticity. I need prayers, good energy, good thoughts and good juju! I need to be surrounded by the best people and things in life. I don’t need outward sympathy, pity or thinking I’m too fragile. I know I will have my moments, so be patient, but I also know I am not the first person to go through something like this and I know EVERYONE is fighting their own battles. This was another awakening for me and this chapter of my journey is only beginning.
All the highs, and the lows, and the way it all goes You can’t let them keep you down If you’re lost, if you’re broke, if you’re stuck on a road You can turn it all around ‘Cause we gotta trust in love Something that can’t be touched A feeling to lift us up All in the name of love
which are my favorite, but flowers in general remind me that when we’re feeling overwhelmed—that we’re not buried, but instead we’ve been planted to root and grow and bloom. Sunflowers reach to the sun, provide shade for others and once they’ve reached their peak, shed seeds of beauty for future generations. 2. Sparklers 
to remind us to be a light for others and to celebrate everyday….always…life is too short to not do it! 3. Bubbles to remind us to never loose sight of our childlike tendencies like wonder and having fun. 4. Spa face masks 
to remind us of self-care especially throughout the craziness of life. You’re no good to anyone if your not taking care of yourself first.
