I take a lot of pride in my strength even if it is not strength that I ever wanted to earn. I did earn it and it is mine. Which is why I think that this last week has been so hard. Because for the first time in a long time I have felt vulnerable, I have felt weak, I have not felt like myself – physically or emotionally.
In January, after a routine mammogram and ultra-sound (because dense breast club), the radiologist recommended I get a lump in each breast biopsied. Three weeks later, one turned out to be a large benign cyst. The other was cancer.
This week I’m pivoting from my normal blog style to provide an update on US government funded medical research. With so many eye-catching headlines, there hasn’t been a lot of attention paid to this corner of the government recently – but you should know what’s happening here.
Every five years or so my life has undergone a major life refocusing and it would appear that I am in the midst of one again. And it awkward and uncomfortable and I’m not quite sure what I am supposed to do next.
I am trying to stay informed but not be overwhelmed. To acknowledge the chaos but not succumb to it. To bear witness to the devastation but not let it depress me. And let me tell you, it is hard fucking work. Who knew it would take a global upheaval for me to finally start practicing mindfulness?
If you all are anything like me, you could use a little pick me up right about now. My gift to you this week is a sweet story that comes with the reminder that for some godforsaken reason we have to have darkness before light.
Just when you thought the news couldn’t possibly get any worse, each day this week outdid the one before. I’ve felt deep sorrow, anger, fear, exhaustion, helplessness, a numbing, and an intense lack of motivation. Anything beyond curling up under a blanket with a screen or a book felt like strenuous effort. What was wrong with me? I couldn’t keep going on like this! And then it finally dawned on me that I was going through active grief.
Well folks, 2025 has made her presence known. Personally, I reached a level of doom scrolling this week not seen since the spring of 2020. The world feels heavy and overwhelming and it is difficult to determine where to prioritize concern and focus action. And then my friend Tamika, reminded me about the importance of joy and I think you might need this reminder as well.
Last night, while people mourned their loved ones, homes, business, and jobs in LA, Miguel and I went to the theater. It is a weird feeling this hyperconnectivity. We have access to the intimate details of the grief and loss experienced be those in Palestine, Ukraine, or LA. Yet unless it is in our community, where we can see it, smell it, and directly feel its impact - it all remains distant. Life goes on…
We only thought we would be in Chicago for a year so we rented out our New Jersey house while we were away. When it came time to move back I couldn’t bring myself to return to that house. My emotions surrounding the house have conflicted me for so long but as we are getting ready to say goodbye to the house, it is all becoming clear.
This is an ode to the parent who bears the weight of the mental load. Who plans the meals, registers for the activities, and updates the family calendar. Who reads (most of) the school emails, and the class WhatsApp, and the extracurricular activity app(s). Who coordinates the afterschool care, the babysitters, and the social calendar.
After seeing a new musical in LA about a family struggling with their daughter’s epilepsy I came home reanalyzing the affect Adelaide’s life, and now Anessa’s, has on Jackson. Once a medically-complex/disability sibling always a medically-complex/disability sibling. But just because the wheel isn’t squeaky doesn’t mean it isn’t also in need of some extra TLC.
