Getting back in the swing of things

I'm happy to say that in the last few weeks since my last blog post....no news was good news! Things are going really well and I truly feel my life getting aligned on this path.

I started taking Tamoxifen, which I'll be on for at least 5 years, at the beginning of November. Taking it has been completely uneventful, which is better than what I was anticipating! Some women have side effects that mimic menopause (hot flashes and such) and so far I haven't noticed anything like that. If I continue to not have any symptoms I'll have a genetic test done to make sure that my CYP2D6 enzyme is properly metabolizing the drug. About 6-10% of those of European/caucasian descent are poor metabolizers, and If I'm one of them then basically that would mean that I would benefit less from tamoxifen, because the tamoxifen would not be properly converting into its metabolized form. Until then, I'll enjoy this low-impact part of treatment!

Every day I put on this scar cream that is turning out to be a strong contender for a miracle worker. My scars are fading right before my eyes! I can't wait to see how they improve in another month! After applying to my new scars I've started to use the residue on old scars on my knees and even they are fading!

I've been back at work now for almost 4 weeks and each day has flown by. I spent my second week back at work in Austin, TX for Procore's user conference, Groundbreak. I had a great time speaking with clients and eating great food. The following week I had a few days off for Thanksgiving. Mom and I explored a bunch of new vegan recipes and cooked a delicious meal. I've added a few links to some of our favorite dishes below...because mashed potatoes are great any day of the year!

Now that I'm back in the office I'm settling in more and more and getting back into the swing of this whole work/life balance thing...with a strong push on the life side of that equation. I feel really lucky to have a beautiful ocean view from my desk and the Carpinteria Bluffs to walk through when I need a break. Of all the places to work, I really lucked out to be at Procore through all of this. My team has been incredibly understanding of my transition back into work and we're excitedly starting to plan for 2019.

One thing that I've started to notice in myself is that I have a deeper sense of my personal boundaries and less flexibility when they're compromised by myself or others. Shaw frequently jokes that I always like to fit just one more thing into my day. I've been known to make a stop at the grocery store...or the gas station...or the post office....or all of the above 20 minutes before a dinner reservation. I'm the kind of person who makes one single trip from the car with all of the groceries piled up in my arms. Although efficient, this kind of task-piling can be kind of stressful. Will I make it on time? Will I drop something? This is a personal boundary issue for me because I let, or even invite something external to cause me stress. Now that I'm more aware of my personal limit and boundary I am slowing down, honestly trying to only take on one thing at a time...and it's so freeing! For external pushes on my personal boundaries I'm also making shifts. With friends I am learning to be much more honest with myself and them when I'm feeling up for doing something or not. This may seem totally obvious, but I think I have said "yes" a lot more than "no" in my life and I'm learning that it's really better to say "no" when I really want to say "no." If I'm tired, I say, "I'm tired!" and I go home. Obviously this is not groundbreaking stuff, but for me it's making a big impact on what I choose to include in each day and where I set my limits.

Hard to believe, but this weekend marks 4 months since diagnosis. I feel like I've lived 4 years in that time. 4 years worth of tears, and 4 years of laughter too.

Hugs to you all!

Jessie


Mashed Potatoes

https://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/food-network-kitchen/vegan-roasted-garlic-mashed-potatoes-3362287

Spinach Artichoke Dip

https://www.mydarlingvegan.com/vegan-spinach-artichoke-dip/

Stuffing Cakes

http://www.thebloomingplatter.com/vegan-thanksgiving/vegan-stuffing-cakes-addicting-even-it-ifs-not-thanksgiving

Update 10/24: Healing and Transitions

It's been a few weeks since my last post but I've had to really get my head around what I want to talk about in this blog. In many ways I feel like the physical, palpable, healing part of this experience is winding down. Our apartment is starting to feel like home again. The rented recliner and TV were taken away. I'm cooking again, playing piano, driving myself, and hugging my husband with a full, real hug. Well, a little softer than before. For all the trauma that I've experienced in the last three months I'm experiencing a very gentle and calm period now. 

Our focus this week is on my second round of IVF. Despite seemingly good numbers of viable eggs (19) in the first round that we decided to fertilize (10), only 3 of those embryos made it to the blastocyst stage, but all were poor cell quality and ineligible for freezing. I didn't anticipate the difficulty I had with losing those embryos. I felt so sad and helpless for several days. In 5 years when I'm off of Tamoxifen who knows what the state of my eggs will be? I felt like that first round of IVF was our sure shot...and it really didn't go as expected. The day I found out that none of the embryos were viable my mom had me look at a calendar. Our timing works out so that we can fit in another round of IVF before I start taking Tamoxifen in early November. All of the medication is covered again by the Livestrong Foundation and Santa Barbara Fertility is giving us a generously discounted rate again.

I'm feeling really optimistic about this round. My body is so much healthier than before! I'm not on antibiotics, not weening off of anesthesia or taking painkillers. I walk to my appointments at the fertility center to get a little exercise and 'me time' in each day. After Shaw gives me shots every night we take a few minutes to slow dance. We joke that we're bringing the love back into baby making! All of these aspects are vast improvements from the first round and give me confidence that we're doing the very best we can. 

Here's a photo of 1/3 of the fertility drugs and me numbing my belly with an ice cube before doing the shots. 

Beyond currently growing ~30 eggs (so far 14 on one side and 16 on the other!!) my focus is all emotional and psychological. Now that my physical body is feeling good I can really get into the nitty gritty of my emotional health. I've started attending a weekly meditation class at the Breast Cancer Resource Center and am starting to see our therapist one-on-one. I'm also reading "Transitions: Making Sense of Life's Changes" which is an incredible book that applies to all the twists and turns, beginnings and endings of life. Through reading this book I've been able to identify my style of dealing with transitions and sort through why I'm feeling and acting a certain way.

One of my biggest concerns right now is returning to work on November 5th. For the last 6 weeks 100% of my focus has been on me and my body and my health. Work has barely crossed my mind at all. I'm having a hard time reconciling the fact that I will need to be at work and think about work for at least 40 hours a week. I'm definitely not alone. Here's what an article says about young adults with cancer: "Young adults diagnosed with cancer experience interrupted lives...All of this impacts the young adult’s identity and life as he or she knew it. These side effects can last well past treatment when a young adult “looks fine” to the outside world while, “inside,” he or she is struggling emotionally, physically and existentially." There's no doubt that it's going to be really weird and probably really hard to be back at work for the first few days and weeks. Refocusing and reprioritizing myself and my care around the work day seems really unnatural. Careers and Cancer is a website I've been using to help sort through some of these feelings. 

Beyond work just being out in the world is kind of strange too. I don't have any outward signs of cancer. No chemo means my hair is the same. My new breasts are very similar to my original breasts so all of my shirts still fit. I haven't gained or lost weight. I'm still smiling. And yet, everything has changed. My life is completely changed. Forever. I'm never not going to be someone who had cancer. I hate that and I embrace it. I hate it for obvious reasons. I embrace it because of the impact I can have as a voice of young diagnosis, someone who self-advocated every step of the way, and someone who has gotten through it. For those reasons I can feel like there is something positive about all of this, especially when I can share my story and help someone who is also going through this. 

So, what can you do for someone who is going through a hard time like a cancer diagnosis or treatment? Here's a few things that have made a big difference for me:

• Send a card. Emails carry the expectation of a response and a call can be tiring, but a real card with a simple 'thinking of you' message or a word of encouragement means more than you could imagine. Finding cards in the mail every few days from friends and family was so special and meaningful and helped me feel like I was surrounded by love. Care packages take this to the next level. Shaw's amazing sister sent an amazing Carton Blanche that knocked my socks off!
• Don't say, "Let me know what I can do to help"!!!! This seemingly nice gesture is hollow and puts the person in an awkward position to ask, and when it comes to something like this they probably don't even know what they need. I sure didn't. Be proactive if you really want to help. Bring them a treat, schedule a time to go for a walk, listen, take them to an appointment. My sweet mom went above and beyond and did our laundry for several weeks during my surgery recovery. A friend brought over vegan ice cream just because. This is the stuff that truly helps.
• Your presence is a present. Yes, it's a total cliché but it's totally true. When everything else is changing having the people who love and care for you nearby is everything. My girlfriends made extra effort to get together for dinner and movies and I felt so loved. Shaw's Aunt Christina came into town and was here for us in every sense. For those who aren't nearby the person in need, refer to #1! Your love will still be felt! 

In other news, Wheaton College responded to my letter! The breast self-exam shower cards that were in each shower when I was a student were removed at some point in the last 6 years. My parents have generously donated the amount needed to purchase and restore the cards to each shower on campus. Those simple little cards may have made the difference between my very curable Stage II and an incurable Stage IV diagnosis. Truly life saving. Consider donating funds or the physical cards to your alma mater to help raise awareness on college campuses everywhere!

Sending you all hugs!

Jessie

Dear Wheaton College

I've been thinking a lot recently about early detection, especially during Breast Cancer Awareness Month when we're bombarded by reminders to get a mammogram. As a young woman I really didn't feel like that messaging and those reminders were for me. So what can we say and do to reach younger women? The message that stuck was the one that I saw every day for 4 years during college: "Do your monthly self-exam!" Below is a letter I wrote yesterday and sent to the current president of my undergrad alma mater, Wheaton College in Norton, Massachusetts. 

_____________________________________________

Dear President Hanno and the Wheaton Community,

I'm writing this letter in sincere gratitude to Wheaton College. Wheaton is an amazing college for many reasons, but I am writing today to specifically acknowledge the college's part in my early diagnosis of breast cancer. Not something you hear every day, huh?

I attended Wheaton from 2008 - 2012 and during that time every shower stall featured an informative card that hung from the shower head. The card showed a cartoon woman whose arm was raised above her head performing a breast self-exam and had step-by-step instructions on how to do a self-exam. This card greeted me every time I showered throughout college and, although it felt silly at first, soon my monthly self-exams were routine. 

After college I continued my monthly self-exams. Just six years after graduation and two weeks after my 28th birthday I felt something in my right breast that simply hadn't been there before. I knew what normal felt like and this was not normal. 

If you are 20 years old the chances of developing breast cancer in the next 10 years is 1 in 1,567, or 0.1%. Low odds, but it happens, and it happened to me. I was diagnosed with breast cancer on August 3rd, 2018 and had a double mastectomy surgery 5 weeks later. I will soon start taking Tamoxifen and will continue taking it for at least 5 years to help prevent recurrence. 

My cancer journey has been a negative box filled with many positives. Most importantly, my particular type of breast cancer is curable, largely due to the fact that I found it early. 

For a young woman, being familiar with your breasts is essential for early detection. Avoid meat and dairy. Exercise regularly. Do not use plastics for storing, preparing, or serving food and drink. Choose toxin-free cosmetics and household products. All of these suggestions are confirmed by research and are proven to reduce risk of all cancers. By far the most critical for early breast cancer detection is for women to know their breasts. Young women need to be diligent about their monthly self-exams and be proactive and speak with their doctor if they feel something strange.

Thank you to Wheaton College for being aware of and supporting women's breast health. Thank you to the people who hung those cards in each shower. I sure hope they are still hanging from shower heads throughout campus today. It is because of those cards that I found my cancer early and am healthy today. 

With deep gratitude, 

Austin Jessie Davidson

Class of 2012

Update 9/30

The last two weeks since coming home from surgery have honestly felt like two months. Healing and recovery are time consuming. Who knew? It's become an overused cliché to me now, but it's so true that every day gets better. So here's my recap from the last two weeks:

I spent the first two nights sleeping in Bernard, the electric recliner chair that we rented for a month. I woke up 3-4 times per night needing water or the bathroom or painkillers. Sweet Shaw leapt into action every time I called out for him. I couldn't reach the button to recline/incline, so he need to help me every time I needed to move. After two nights I started to feel good enough to sleep in bed, using an amazing memory foam set like this that helped me stay in a comfortable position sleeping on my back. Mentally and emotionally it really helped to be in my own bed, and we were both able to sleep through the night. At least twice per day Shaw would also help me clean and empty the two drains and tubes that came out just below my armpits on my left and right side. That was my least favorite part of each day. My mom and Shaw both helped drive me to appointments, the most important of which being my sessions in the hyperbaric chamber. This little miracle of pressurized air contributed significantly to my healing, and made some very scary looking dark red colors go away.

On Friday night when we returned from the hospital we began IVF treatment. One reason for doing IVF now is to save eggs in anticipation of potentially needing chemotherapy, which would damage if not destroy my reproductive organs. The other reason is that because my cancer was mostly fed by hormones it is beneficial to limit the amount of time that hormones are racing around my body. So to implant vs. try naturally could reduce that hormonal time by months if not years. Each night Shaw prepared the needles and injected me with 2-3 hormone shots to help me create multiple eggs. After a few evenings of this we started to get into a rhythm. I held an ice cube on my belly, put on Bob Marley, closed my eyes, and pretended I was on some idyllic Caribbean island. Once my belly was numb Shaw would count down, "Three...two...one..." and I barely felt the shots. Towards the end of the 12 day treatment I started to feel a bit bloated, but overall the process was easy.

On Wednesday 9/25 I had 27 eggs extracted, 19 of which were mature enough to be fertilized. We froze 9 eggs by themselves and added a wee bit of Shaw to ten eggs. Out of those ten, seven became fertilized and formed an embryo. We are getting almost daily updates on the progress of these little guys, knowing that not all will form into perfect blastocysts. Here's a nice day-by-day look into what's happening: A Guide to Embryo Development After Retrieval. This part of the process is surprisingly stressful. I had no idea that I would feel this way, simply because I'm not at all thinking of having a child right now...and yet we are creating our potential future children right now. It's really hard to think about not all seven embryos making it to the blastocyst phase (the phase to reach before freezing/implanting) and not all being good enough quality, but that's really the natural order of things. If none of the embryos make it to the blastocyst stage then they won't be viable and will not be frozen. The silver lining through it all is that we do have nine eggs in waiting.

In other news....I WILL NOT NEED TO HAVE CHEMOTHERAPY!!!!!!!!! I got the good news from my oncologist on Thursday. He based the decision on my Oncotype DX genomic test, a prognostic and predictive test that analyzes the activity of 21 genes that influence how likely a cancer is to grow and respond to treatment. My Oncotype score is 11, so I fall right in the middle of the low-risk recurrence area of the chart of 0-18. Essentially with a score of 11 the benefit of chemotherapy is likely to be small and won't outweigh the risks of the slew of side effects that come along with chemo. After the appointment Shaw and I immediately went out for McConnell's to celebrate. I will start taking Tamoxifen in early November, once I'm fully healed from surgery. Tamoxifen is the go-to selective estrogen receptor modulator. This will be the first time in my life that I will be on a medication for longer than two weeks....and actually I'll be on Tamoxifen for at least five years. The exciting aspect is that I will be taking one little magic pill every day that will help ward off cancer recurrence.

The last week has been filled with lots of rest and relaxation. We celebrated Shaw's birthday on the 22nd and I've had visitors from all over - Shaw's Aunt Christina from Houston and my best friend Jackie from New York have brightened up my world this week. I've had visits from sweet friends bringing meals and treats. A big group of friends took me out for dinner and a movie earlier in the week and I actually felt...normal. Feeling relatively normal is a hard thing for me to deal with right now. I want to be fully normal...not "normal" with an underlying major recovery taking place in my body and a mountain of medication straight ahead. I'm in that middle stage of transition where I'm halfway between the old normal and the new normal...reaching back lovingly and reaching forward hopefully, but feeling extremely uncomfortable without my feet solidly planted in one or the other. I'm not worried about getting there and, as I said at the beginning of this post, every day gets better.

The “Big One”

Wednesday was really the day we’ve been eagerly anticipating since the first day of diagnosis—my tumor of cancer was fully removed!!!

The few days before driving to Santa Monica were filled with an overwhelming feeling of being equally prepared and antsy. I just wanted to be on the other side of the 12th. We found out on the 10th that one of the 7 nodes that was removed in my first surgery was cancerous, 0.7mm of cancer to be exact. Based on that size it’s possible that the cancer spread to that sentinel node 4-5 months ago. The good news about all this is that just through the biopsy some of my cancer was gone...and we were going to take care of the rest in short order.

And then it was time to drive to Santa Monica, which, despite our preparations, felt sudden once we actually had to leave.

We found our hotel easily and mom and dad took Shaw and I for a great Italian dinner, taking a note from my triathlon training that recommends carbo loading the night before a race. I didn’t have any trouble falling asleep but did wake every hour and have to will myself back to sleep. 1AM, 2AM, 3AM, finally the alarm chirped at 4:15. Quick shower and we were out the door. Game time. 

We arrived at Saint Johns at 5:00AM and I was prepped and ready to be wheeled off within an hour and a half. The surgery prep area felt like Grand Central - nurses rushing around, with so much purpose and efficiency, and dozens of patients awaiting their departure. Little things really stood out to me in the prep area. My nurse asked if she could place the IV in my forearm so my hand or crook of my elbow wouldn’t have to be used and I could retain more mobility. I was given a large pad for my tailbone so that my back wouldn’t hurt after 7 hours on the table. Both of my surgeons came in together to chat and gave hugs all around. I really felt cared for in a whole-body kind of way.

My anesthesiologist really went above and beyond - he calmed me and eased me into sedation by talking about one of my favorite things—McConnell’s ice cream. The last thing I remember saying is, “...and my husband’s favorite is salted caramel chip...” Genius man.

Around 2:00pm Shaw was allowed to be with me in the recovery area. This was another Grand Central but with more beeps. Everyone was attached to beeping machines and the man in the next stall over was snoring loudly. Shaw says I kept asking to be moved away from all the beeping. After being fully stabilized I was wheeled up to the my room in the Caritas Suites. I don’t know how I lucked out with access to a private room. My stay in the hospital was so serene and private and the nurses were all excellent. I took my first walk in the wee early hours of Thursday morning (about 40 steps) and was walking laps around the floor by Friday morning. I know my healing was kickstarted and will be faster overall from having such excellent care in those initial days. Dr. Chopra visited every day to check on my progress and his huge grin left no room for misunderstanding - he is very happy with his work and is confident in the end result.

Believe it or not we were in the car on our way home by noon on Friday. The drive home was uneventful and we made it home just in time for my dose of painkiller due every three hours. I cozied up to my new electric recliner and passed out.

Every day has seen leaps and bounds of improvement. I can’t believe we’re home now and in full recovery mode! We’ll hear about the pathology of all of my breast tissue in the next couple of weeks and will also learn my oncatype. This information  will help my oncologist make the decision about chemotherapy and/or hormone therapy. 

The road is still long, but we’ve reached a critical milestone now...my tumor is out of my body!!!!!!

Recovering speedily,

Jessie 

Surgery Round 1!

There wasn't much traffic and so my mom, Shaw, and I made it down to LA in very good time on Tuesday evening. We found the hotel, located just a 5 minute drive from the surgery center, and put our things away before heading to a Thai restaurant around the corner. Shaw told us stories from his travels through Southeast Asia and everything felt...normal. 

Throughout the night I woke up several times, checked the hotel alarm clock, and eased myself back to sleep by meditating. After this totally restless sleep the alarm finally rung at 5:30am. I showered and brushed my hair, not even realizing in the moment how much independence those two tasks represent. I put on comfy and loose pajama pants and a soft button-up top. By 6:10 we were in the car and on our way to being on time, even early, for my 6:30 check in. 

K&B Surgical Center is a beautiful, clean, and modern facility. I had a stack of paperwork to fill out before my nurse came to greet us and take me back to get ready. My nurse was sweet and gentle and kind. She gave me her undivided attention and took time to make sure I felt comfortable and calm. The gown I wore was key in this whole comfort and calm thing. It was actually hooked up to a portable air vent that pushed warm, cozy air around my body. It was amazing. After getting my IV prepped, Dr. Funk came in to chat and confirm the procedure by marking on my skin. Soon after Shaw and mom were brought back to be with me while the anesthesiologist started a drip to keep me calm. A quick hug and a kiss and I was wheeled down the hall. 

Next thing I knew I was coming to and my sweet nurse was asking me to try to fall back asleep. Isn't anesthesia the most amazing thing? I have no recollection of anything between entering the operating room and waking up. During that time Dr. Funk made the incisions, took biopsies from my nipples and also removed 4 sentinel nodes for biopsy. She was very busy while I was passed out for that hour and a half. We should have the results of those biopsies back on Monday, and they may change our plan for Wednesday's surgery if cancer is detected in the newly biopsied areas. We'll cross that bridge on Monday.

After about an hour in the recovery room and my pain at a very manageable 3/10 we drove back to Santa Barbara. Driving to and from LA is never very pleasant but during this drive every single bump and road surface change was amplified and I found myself grating my teeth in anticipation of another bump. We arrived home and I got settled in my new throne -- a comfy chair and ottoman on loan from my parents. By Thursday my mild pain was reduced to moderate discomfort and tightness in my right shoulder area which is common for this procedure. I've been doing small shoulder rolls to ease the tightness. I took Tylenol Extra Strength through Friday morning, opting to avoid taking the Percocet I was prescribed until absolutely necessary.

Shaw and mom have been taking turns with me, getting me out of the house for little tasks or just sitting and watching movies with me. Shaw even installed a new shower head that is easier for him to use when he helps me in that department. Mom has been the absolute best - organizing paperwork and bills and doing dishes and laundry. We couldn't do this without her comforting and selfless help.

On Thursday afternoon we met with a 3rd oncologist, Dr. Kass. Although he didn't tell us anything new about my prognosis or anticipated treatment, but he immediately put me at ease and went into action by ordering a test on my initial core biopsy that may help us know if chemo or hormone therapy will more more, less, or equally effective. I feel very confident in him and I'm happy to say that he'll be my oncologist. 

So, now the full team of breast surgeon, plastic surgeon, and oncologist has been assembled and I'm feeling better and better about Wednesday's "Big Surgery" now that we've successfully navigated this test run. Onward!

Surgery is scheduled

Surgery has been scheduled for September 12th. What a mix of emotions. The goal-oriented side of me is happy to have a date locked in to prepare for. The surgery first-timer side of me is scared of going under anesthesia. The nester side of me wants to buy all of the support pillows and mastectomy bras that I can find. I have 2 weeks to get all of this sorted out so I can walk into surgery feeling prepared for all of it, even the unknown parts. 

On September 5th (one week before the big surgery) I will have a surgical procedure called a nipple delay. This is one of my surgeon's secret weapons that she created for mastectomy success. Basically she will make the planned mastectomy incisions and lift half of the skin off of the breasts. She'll also excise the ducts to be analyzed to confirm if it's safe to keep my nipples or if there's more cancer there. Then she'll put the skin back down and sew me up. So why do this? The lifted skin will call out for more blood flow that will be present in my skin for weeks and will help during the mastectomy and recovery. You can read all about the nipple delay procedure on page 249 of Breasts: The Owner's Manual. During this surgery Dr. Funk will also remove a few sentinel lymph nodes to be analyzed to confirm that cancer hasn't spread there. The MRI didn't pick up anything there, but a biopsy will confirm. This sentinel lymph node biopsy and nipple delay surgery will only take about an hour and I'll be home that night. 

The big surgery on the 12th will be more intense. We will arrive at the hospital in Santa Monica at 5:00am for a 7:00am start time. The surgery will take about 3 hours and will be both the double mastectomy and reconstruction. I will need to spend 2 nights in the hospital and should be discharged on Friday the 14th. I've been told to expect a full month of recovery. 

So what are we doing to prepare? SO MUCH! I've stocked up on all of the vitamins and supplements that Dr. Funk recommends for pre- and post-op, 11 in all! I'm in touch with Jean-Paul LuVanVi, a chef who has 20+ years of experience preparing meals for people with cancer. He will be preparing nutritious, healing meals for us for a week before and a few weeks after surgery. Shaw and I are looking into renting an electric reclining La-Z-Boy and a TV for the month so I can be really comfortable and entertained. I hear most women end up sleeping in their chairs and the electric recline/incline is essential for getting up -- no pulling myself up! There are a lot of products out there that are marketed to women who are undergoing a double mastectomy - special pillows and robes and shirts and bras - and it's a little difficult to know what I'll actually need. I am my mother's daughter, the mother who bought me 4 winter coats for my first East Coast winter...so I'm going to go ahead and buy all of it. Love you Mom. 

Beyond the tangible preparation we're also preparing emotionally. Shaw and I have been seeing our therapist again (who we worked with as a pre-marital foundational support) and I've been upping my yoga and workout routine to 5 times per week. My team at work has been incredibly supportive and has lovingly told me that they 'don't need me around' for the next month anyway. I'll miss them while I'm away.

Tomorrow my sweet lifelong friend Kathryn will accompany me to Los Angeles for a full day of 3 appointments - pre-surgery blood work and EKG, oncologist consultation, and plastic surgeon consultation. Can you believe her? Enthusiastically volunteering to drive around Los Angeles all day and sit in waiting rooms?? I'm the luckiest to have friends like her.

Things are moving quickly now which feels like a mixed blessing. We're handling it and the details are being taken care of...and I have two weeks left with the current shape of my body. I'm embracing what I have now, and welcoming getting comfortable in my next shape. Life sure is full of challenging, beautiful, and baffling transitions.