Intermittent blogging -- an explanation

A few weeks ago, I wrote a post titled "Too Much Information?" -- I was trying to figure out how much personal information was appropriate to share in this space. It's an ongoing issue I return to, as I suggested in the post. But I had a specific reason in mind--namely, I had been going through some issues with the health care system/institution and knew, in the worst case scenario, that I would be taking a hiatus from this blog and/or only blogging intermittently.

The worst case scenario has happened. About 2 weeks ago, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. A week ago I had some surgical procedures done and the biopsy results have come back this week: I'm in stage 2A. It means that it hasn't hit my lymph system but they removed a rather large mass on my left breast and I have some indication of cancer in the pre-invasive stage (DCIS for those of you in the know) on the right, which they excised and biopsied.

This is all, of course, devastating to me. And for those of you who know me personally, who read this blog, I'm sorry to share this with you in this space rather than in a more personal manner. It has been hard for me to let everyone know by email, let alone by phone. If you want to contact me off-blog, feel free to do so.

For those of you who only know me as the blogger of "Mixed Race America," esp. you long time readers, I'm sure this is also coming as a surprise. I wish I weren't opening up and giving you all this news. I wish this weren't happening to me.

What I can tell you is that I'm overwhelmed but doing OK. I'm a highly functioning person who compartementalizes my emotions and I'm very focused and organized and have been on a fact finding mission to discover the extent of the cancer and the best treatment and surgery options to pursue because I want to live. It's really that simple.

Anyway, there's much more to say and write about. And as I come to grips with the diagnosis and make a decision about surgery (they didn't get clean margins last week so I need to go back and do some additional surgery and I'm trying to decide on which procedure will be best for me) and treatment plans (I'm definitely doing chemo--UGH--and it's going to be aggressive and I will lose my hair).

I also wanted to share some stories of going through the hospital system. It has been an interesting experience, to say the least, and race has popped its head up and I'd like to be able to write about that as well, while maintaining my relative anonymity and the anonymity/privacy of my medical team and loved ones.

Southern Man and our dog "B" are doing OK for the time being. As things progress, we know it will get harder and harder. Which is why I may or may not be blogging on a regular basis in this space anymore. Please be patient with me. And if anyone has experience with this disease, I'm all ears on suggestions for how to get through--anything from skin care treatments (because apparently you need to use different kinds of lotions when you go through chemo) to wig options (need to look into that in the next month) to books and articles to help sustain me (although my one caveat is that I'm not a pink ribbon kinda gal--it's not a diss to the Susan Komen foundation nor to anyone who finds the symbol of the ribbon inspiring. For me, seeing the ribbon is a mark of cancer and I refuse to be marked by this disease so I've developed a motto: No Fucking Pink Ribbons (sorry for the swearing--it's what I do when I'm upset and I've been upset since I got the diagnosis). I'm a fighter. I'm going to live. And I'm open to any and all suggestions about how to fight and to live through this disease.