Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): I am less than 15 hours away from learning the fate of my DNA. Will I be BRCA 1 or 2 positive? Or other cancer gene positive? We will find out tomorrow morning at 8:30 am! I also went on a little adventure this weekend to Spokane and tried to rest as much as I could in preparation for what I am calling hell week: DNA results, MRI scan, red devil chemo, and TWO shots! No, not shots of tequila sadly. Just a growth factor shot and a hormone blocker shot. Chemically induced menopause here I come!

Oh and I supposedly will start losing my hair after my second round of chemo. Call me cue ball.

TO THE LONG VERSION!

The first time I ever got yelled at for wearing a mask was in 2021 when the mask mandate temporarily applied to only folks who were unvaccinated. I went to a bar in downtown Kennewick to get my partner and some friends and I wore my mask inside. It was PACKED and I was the only person wearing a mask. There was a group of white men sitting at a table against a wall and as I walked by, they started to heckle me. “You don’t need to wear that damn mask! Take it off! Take it off!” I wish I had found my voice at the time and my middle finger to start a bar fight. Instead, I just glared and kept moving. Regrets. Getting into a bar fight is on my bucket list.

Last night was the second time I got called out for wearing a mask. This time, the mask mandate is completely gone in the state of Washington and my white blood cell count is extremely low, so I need to mask up if I do go out and avoid crowds and do all the things to make sure I don’t get sick. We had bought tickets in December to see one of my partner’s favorite podcasters/comedians, Michael Rapaport. I had been SO EXCITED to go and then cancer happened and I just kept telling Jose all week that if I felt okay, I would make the trek to Spokane with him Saturday. I would risk it all for some laughs. I so desperately wanted a sense of normal in my life right now. I felt well enough to go, but I knew that I would be literally the only person in the room wearing a mask. Thank goodness I love standing out.

Our seats were literally in front of the stage, which was cool in the sense that we got to be a handshake away from someone pretty fucking funny and dope, but I also knew comedians like to talk to people sometimes during their shows. I saw it with Trevor Noah in November and I had a weird feeling that it was going to happen here, too. Mr. New York (aka Michael Rapaport) comes out, greets the crowd, and sees me in my suckashit shirt and my bright green mask. I knew I should have at least worn a black one. “You are literally the first person in Washington I have seen wear a mask,” he roars. I mean I laugh because it is true. I am literally the only person wearing a mask in Washington, or at least in fucking Spokane. I laugh because it is funny. I am not sad about being roasted by a funny person. If anything it is an honor. But Jose is my champion and yells, “She has cancer, bro!” My heart races because hearing that is jarring to me. I have cancer? Oh, yeah, I guess I do. The comedian laughs and is like, “What?” but he goes on to say that I really do and it becomes really awkwardly funny and he realizes that Jose is serious. Michael makes another joke about it, a good roast (honestly cannot remember at this point because I was laughing and chemo brain is real) and he moves on to roast others and compliment some guy with a Ted Lasso mustache.

It was a funny show. My cheeks hurt from laughing, which was adding insult to injury because my cheeks already hurt from bone pain caused by chemo. At the end of the show, on his way down the ramp Michael Rapaport waved pointed specifically at me and Jose was insanely jealous. I was the real winner here. The girl in the green mask with cancer with the suckashit shirt is cool. Safety is cool. Fuck yeah!

That moment was okay for me. I am okay. I thought it was funny and I know the comedian’s stance on masking and COVID has been supportive, so I knew the roast was in good fun. And Jose was so great about it. He isn’t going to let anyone bully or make fun of me doing what I need to do to keep myself safe but also exist in the world. But I also wish that if you all see someone wearing a mask in this new maskless time that you also just leave them be. You just never know if the person wearing the mask has cancer and has a low white blood cell count or not. It is none of your business anyways.

The last 48 hours have been a great experience of normalness. I have discovered I still have parosmia, but it is just less aggressive. I ate chicken wings for the first time in a year and they didn’t taste like ass! I enjoyed a cranberry hard cider (don’t tell my oncologist!) at a bar in Spokane with a wonderful friend and Jose. I even cooked today! My energy levels have been low, I can feel the mouth sores starting to form, and I have a headache that never goes away now, but I am living and I lived this weekend and it felt so nice.

I really hope that I am able to rebound like this from every red devil treatment. It will give me something to hope for as I lay helplessly on my couch the first four days after chemo. I need something to look forward to this week when the red Kool Aid is pumped into my left jugular.

Welcome to hell week.

Today’s song lyric of the day is brought to you by Natalia Lafourcade. I love this song so much.

“Sigo cruzando ríos
Andando selvas, amando el sol
Cada día sigo sacando espinas
De lo profundo del corazón
En la noche sigo encendiendo sueños
Para limpiar con el humo sagrado cada recuerdo”

– Hasta la Raíz, Natalia Lafourcade