Author: hopelesscauseatelier

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!

With light and love,
Dara Sophia Romero

“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.

With light and love,
Dara Sophia

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.

With light and love,
Dara Sophia Romero

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:

Ang, Michelle, Melissa, Mo, Joe, Eilene, Francesca, Isaiah, Brianna, Lisa, Cati, Glenna, Dale, Cathy, Francie, Christina, Bryan, Kristen, Denise, Evelyn, Raini, Katrina, Erica, Enid, Cory, Michael, Jamie, Amanda, Carmen, Kate, Lyndsay, Deborah, Diane, Casey Serena, Trisha, Laurie, Lee, Amanda, Laura, Laura, Nancy, Taylor, Angela, Swarupa, Heather, Lisa, Kristin, Maria, Charlene, Yvette, Stacy, Lalaine, Roberta, Melanie and Michelle

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

you are bigger than what is making you anxious

unknown

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 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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

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).

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 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).

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.

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 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!

With light and love,
Dara Sophia Romero

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.

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.

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 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.”

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

Learn to Fly, Surfaces (feat Elton John)

With light and love,
Dara Sophia