#ClusterFuckShitShow

Well things in our nation have certainly turned into a bigger #ClusterFuckShitShow much faster than mostly anticipated...mostly.

I'm not quite sure where to start...yet again...about the events as they've unfolded in the last few weeks, but can say for certain that on Monday June 8, the Washington State Department of Health stated:

The Washington State Department of Health and the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention now recommend that people wear cloth face coverings when they are in public settings where they cannot maintain 6 feet of distance from others.

Don't blame Inslee for all of it. I mean I'm all for blaming the old white dude in the room, but it's deeper than him. While Inslee is far from perfect, he's not the Governor Douchey...Ducey of Arizona, who reopened his entire state, and is now seeing huge increases in the number of cases across the state, and then had the fucking balls to say, "we all just gotta learn to live with it"? In spite of the fact that evidence is coming in that wearing a fitted mask to cover our mouth and nose...oh...wait...SCIENCE!

And, let's just get this outta the way here and now. Your mask needs to cover your mouth and your nose. Otherwise, this is what I'll see. Every. Time.

Now you'll see it, too. You're welcome.

Anyway,  Inslee's basing his decisions about your health on data that the epidemiologists and biostatisticians at the Department of Health's of Communicable Disease Epidemiology are mathing up. Oh, #AndAlso, did you know that there are shit ton of communicable diseases these people track? For real. Check out this link for a cool table. #ImAGeekLikeThat #HealthData

Anyway, so get your masks on. And be sure to wear it to your local Black Lives Matter Protest! #ForReal But, only go if you're capable of going, you guys. My family was incapable of going to the protest in our community. For lots of reasons, that I really don't need to list, right...? I mean.... #PayAttention #Please #YouGuys

If you wanna blame someone, or something, blame the virus. But know that the virus itself is not in your control.

And I'm not gonna go on with some "we can only control our own reaction" nonsense because no. Just no.

I've been watching my older son seize for ten years. His epilepsy is not in my control.

When I had breast cancer five years ago, what happened to my body was not in my control.

When my husband went through HPV-caused tonsil cancer four years ago, how he responded to his surgeries and medications were not in my control.

Three years ago, with less than two weeks left in the school year, when my younger son fell off the goddamn monkey bars at school and broke his radius and ulna in his dominant arm and ended up in a full-arm cast for the entire summer. Guess what? Not in my control.

#ThankJesus my kid taught himself how to wipe with his left arm and hand. You know what I'm saying.

But, if you will, he also created some fantastic art, during the summer of 2017, pictured below, #ProudMomMoment

Wonder Woman pencil sketch, and Greta.

This picture hangs on my bedroom wall, on my side of the bed that I share with my husband. Our son was 9 at the time, just finished second grade, where he learned so many different ways to write the date (thanks Mrs N! You rock!) wrote, in very small print, "I did this with my left hand". #OfCourseHeDid

Also worth noting, 2017 is the year Gal Gadot's Wonder Woman exploded on our culture. And fuck yes we took the boys to see it! #DUH my kid drew this after we saw the movie. It was really pretty cool.

Oh and, let's not forget that we Andersons absofuckinlutely do things to balance the Force because, two years ago, when my younger fell off the goddamn monkey bars at Hapkido and bow-fractured his non-dominant arm at the end of the summer and ended up starting the fourth grade with a half-armed cast.

#OfCourseHeDid

#NotInMyControl

#MyLifeIsAComicBook
 
Annnnyyyyywaaayyyy, my point, of course, is that the current Coronavirus pandemic is absolutely not in our control. We can do things to prevent contracting it, like staying home, wearing a mask, and, if we feel safe, we can Bubble with others. NPR has a great 4 minute podcast that explains bubbling.  (Based upon his voice he can totally be in my bubble, yo! #ImASuckerForAccents)

Our federal leadership has failed spectacularly at it's public health campaign, with the idea that a virus is a business to manage. The individual currently occupying space in the Oval Office has decided to halt funding to the World Health Organization. As if you can just stop doing business with the health of the world. Our health is not a switch that can be turned on and off...or a contract written only to then be renegotiated or terminated.

And as of today, Friday June 26, we in Washington State are required to wear a mask while in public. We were all given a choice to be responsible citizens, but some of us had to go and fuck it up for everyone. So now we all get to wear our masks, all the time. Except you! Lady at JoAnn's who was with her daughter and think we don't see you. Rude. And dammit it's getting more and more challenging to recognize folks...but on the other hand it's a little bit easier to avoid some...we all have them and we all are them.

So you may be asking, "Well, why do I need to wear a mask that covers both my mouth and my nose?" Because #JesusRachel get to the bigger point!

The reason we need to wear masks is to protect other people. I wear a mask to protect you from contracting the Coronavirus. Because I care about you. Even though I don't know you. I recognize you as a part of my community, and to protect your health, and even the health of the people you live with, I'm willing to wear a mask when I am in public in my community.

This isn't about the government telling me what to do. Because, really? #fuckthat This is about a basic humanitarian level of caring about each other. Yet, perhaps not shockingly, wearing a mask has become political in America. And the irony is not lost on me that an entire group of people are completely pissed off that the government is telling them what to do with their body is, by and large, the same group of people who are attempting to control the health care rights of women's bodies, all while stripping health care rights away for all Americans...in the midst of a pandemic.  #FuckinSickos

I'm still over here trying to wrap my brain around why access to health care, and health care in general, are not a right as an American Citizen. Years of research have proven that having a higher education leads to better paying jobs, better health insurance, and better health care. There's a strong correlation between socioeconomic status, color of skin, and level of education. It's an area of study called Health Disparities.

So, by that, I think I'm safe to say that being a white woman married to a white man, and we both have Master's Degrees, he has great health insurance and we have this thing called, dare I say, "White Privilege." Stop clutching your pearls. It's not that shocking. And oh for fuck's sake I'll push even harder and say that my white privilege even helped me survive breast cancer. My husband survive his tonsil cancer. And #JesusKnows that having stellar health insurance makes it easier to afford the myriad medications my 13-year-old son has consumed since he was four in order to keep his seizures mostly under control.

But you guys, here's the thing. I recognize that I'm part of a community. And most of the people I choose to associate with recognize that they are a part of a community. So, when I choose to wear a mask in public, I'm choosing to say "I see you and I don't want to get you sick." Because the bottom line is I don't know if I'm shedding Coronavirus. I'm pretty sure I'm not, because there's a low community transmission rate in our county, and my family is on a pretty tight lock-down in that we have not traveled off the Peninsula since before the outbreak. But what about other people? Where have they traveled?

By not wearing a mask, are you're choosing to say "I am incapable of seeing the forest for the trees"? Are you saying that you don't care about the people in your community?

Are there exceptions? Absolutely. And you can read more about them by clicking on this link. 

But right now it is goddamn late and I am tuckered out, you guys. Thanks for reading. And, keep your nose in your mask. #ISeePenises

Love and feathers,
#MaRa

Tuesday March 17, 2020

As is becoming the norm, things are moving fast, and projections are starting to become ominous. Like that school may be out for forever. 

And that the State of Washington won't give Clallam County any test kits until we have a positive test. What the actual fuck? Here. I don't know if these guys would know anything, or be able to do anything, but it may worth your time to email to our County Commissioners, as well as our the good men who represent the 24th Legislative District: Mike Chapman, Steve Tharinger, and Kevin Van De Wege. 

If you want to make change in your community, do it. Stand up. For all of us.

Oh, and ask them about passing a bill that make sure people can't get evicted for not paying rent, or foreclosed upon, since our entire society is shutting down. Thanks.

Annnnyyywaaaayyyy.....

Nathan's feeling ok; his left shoulder is sore and he's got a nasty bruise on his leg, and his head is ok. Thanks to everyone for reaching out. We sincerely appreciate the support.

Isaac and I got outside for quite some time today. He did some swinging, like he does. He catches some serious air.

I worked on spreading the mulch with a shovel and a rake. We talked about what happened yesterday, and how important it is to have extra awareness right now, and stay away from the hospital as much as we can. Don't be a dumbass and do stupid kid stuff, boy child. Youngling. #YChromosome

Speaking of which, a dear friend of mine had a mammogram this morning, and is fine. Her text about how it went prompted me to call the imaging center to confirm my own appointment for Thursday morning, and was told to be there at my scheduled time.

Um...social distancing? I'm literally breathing the same air as the woman who is touching my breast with her pink gloved hands, putting one breast at a time onto a plate and squishing them with another plate and taking a picture of all the gross mushy red stuff inside! Hello? That's about as intimate as you can get without exchanging bodily fluids...and I sometimes leak during a mammogram bc breast cancer duh! You'd think you'd at least walk out of there with a fuckin lollipop but no. Not even a goddamn Life Saver Mint individually wrapped in plastic. Fuckin bullshit. #NoReachAround

And, yes, I realize the irony of the placement of this image of my son. #Obvs

Annnnyyywaaaayyyy.....

So, then this afternoon, my phone rings and the boys feel it is their duty to let me know, because clearly someone from the outside is trying to get in...which is rare in my world. And it was the imaging center telling me that bc of social distancing, they need to reschedule my mammogram.

That's how fast things are moving. 9am today, "Come on in! You're the next contestent on the Boob Squish Machine!"

3pm: #OfCourse they have to cancel and #ThankJesus I don't have to make that decision.

Because on the one hand, I'm at 5 years. On March 9, 2015 I was told I had breast cancer. On March 20, 2015 I had a lime-sized tumor removed from my right breast. I'm lucky in a way, because even though my type of breast cancer was the most aggressive type a young woman could have, the longer I live, the less likely this specific type of breast cancer can come back. I had a triple negative tumor, meaning that it didn't have any hormone receptors and the chemo was going to suck big time, which it did.

Yet, on the other hand, as a survivor, I know I'm supposed to have an annual mammogram to make sure that I'm not growing any new tumors. My radiation oncologist shot the shit out of my right breast...she wanted to make sure that nothing would grow again, and I know it's likely to not. And, because of all the radiation, now I am able to shoot a green laser beam from my right breast. Because duh. It's pretty hot, you guys.

On the one hand, I have anxiety about developing some type of cancer in my left breast; on the other hand, I just had a very thorough breast exam from my primary provider.

And, in reality, I'm more concerned about people I know and love contracting Coronavirus from a spreader. Please watch this 50 second clip from Max Brooks, the son of Mel Brooks. And if you don't know who these men are, then go read "World War Z" and watch "Young Frankenstein"; you're welcome.

#AndAlso, historically it may have been somewhat socially acceptable to say "you're dead to me" if someone makes a cultural reference that you don't get, or a food you've not tasted...but, in this day and age, that's horribly rude and I'm declaring it no longer funny.

#DontBeASpreader

#ThanksForReading

Love and feathers,
#MaRa

Scantily Clad Barista: The Wonder Woman Edition

Ya know when you're driving and stop at a random coffee stand and the barista is scantily clad in a Wonder Woman outfit, and while it's not at all what you expected, you don't bat an eye? Annnnd THEN, she ends up buying you your coffee for you?

Yeah. That.

Wonder Woman made and bought my coffee. Ok, well, she wasn't really Wonder Woman...but you know what I'm sayin, you guys. And she did make a mean iced coffee on a hot summer day.

It happened on the way home from our first-ever school clothes shopping experience. My soon-to-be thirteen-year-old son was sitting next to me, so I have a witness. And also, no, really...this was our first time ever going school clothes shopping. Because of lots of the numerous and rather intense health issues my family manages on a daily basis.

He really didn't bat an eye either.

Because, duh, it was a hot day and we were shopping down in the Closest Shopping Mecca and we were heading home and I needed a 16-ounce, iced, white chocolate, triple Americano with cream, but easy on the ice please....

So why wouldn't a bodacious young babe with glasses and long brown hair and a nose ring answer the window to a random coffee stand on the highway in the sticks?

Except that she was also in a red underwire Tommy Hilfiger bra and Wonder Woman Blue Underwear with White Stars, complete with a sparkly gold headband with a red star in the middle, and gold wristbands up to her elbows, with a red star on each...to deflect the bullets-n-bullshit....

Girl's gotta earn a living. Shit, I'd do that if I was living a different life...before kids...and who in the goddam still wears Timmy Hilfiger? Tommy? Whateverthefuck.

And it's just a goddamn coffee. I gotta stay awake on the drive. Jesus, you guys. Parenting a child with special needs, while you're driving? Not for the faint of heart.

Anyway, so as she was opening the window, which was a little stuck, I turned to my nearly 13-year-old boy child and said, "Dude! Wonder Woman's gonna make me a coffee! You want anything?"

To which he replied: "Huh?"

Typical. #GoddamnYChromosome

I mean, maybe his reply was because his brain works a little slower due his epilepsy and other neurological challenges. But, he's also an almost teenage boy, and #JesusKnows they don't fuckin' listen.

So I told Wonder Woman that I loved her costume. Just get the bullshit out of the way. I don't care if you're dressed like this because you're coffee stand is popular with the log truck drivers, but I need a goddam coffee and I gotta parent my special needs child who is sitting in the passenger seat, next to me, while I'm driving, for the next 90 minutes. And, fortuitously, your coffee stand is on the right side of the road.

So here we are.

Besides, those bitches in the stand on the other side of the road used too much goddamned ice and I felt I got ripped off, quite honestly. 

So I looked up at Wonder Woman and said, "I need a 16-ounce, iced, white chocolate, triple Americano with cream, but easy on the ice please."

"Easy on the ice?" she asked, with her hip out, because she just stands that way, you guys. I don't know. Maybe she's got scoliosis. Regardless, she's hot.

"Yes, please, Wonder Woman. Easy on the ice," I repeated.

Wonder Woman Talisman

I turn to reach for my purse and I think at this point my son was playing with his Rubik's cube. Duh. He's a fidgiter. And I stated, "You're good...? Right? You've got your water and your Rubik's cube. You're good."

I reached in my purse and pulled out my Wonder Woman Talisman that my sons gave me when I went through breast cancer four years ago and I showed it to her.

I flashed the Wonder Woman Barista our mini-me and said, "My sons gave this to me when I went though breast cancer treatment four years ago..." and Wonder Woman Barista looked at me like, "What the fuck?" which is how I'd look at me too...

And then I said, "and I'd sit there during chemo and rub her boobs for good luck..." and Wonder Woman Barista looked at me like a goddamn deer in the headlights because she sure as shit didn't anticipate this conversation...but she nodded her head and said, "Oh! That's great!"...because, what else was she gonna say...?

I think she probably assumed that our interaction, based on her knowing what she was scantily clad in...seeing a woman pull in, with her teenager-ish-looking son...and the mom probably doesn't know this is a bikini barista stand. Because I didn't. And, if I had to bet money, she probably anticipated a rude interaction with her female/momma bear customer and a gawking teenage boy.

There was no rudeness. It was a pleasant interaction. My teenage boy didn't gawk.

And, apparently, they have topless baristas over on the I-5 corridor! I had no idea! For real. Until my friend was over there conducting farming business, because farmers get up early and my friend needed a goddamn coffee and unknowingly pulled in to a topless barista stand. Sometimes I'm so sheltered I scare myself you guys...anyway, the topless barista covered up and had a lovely conversation with my Female Farmer Friend. And I know a lot of Female Farmers. Because #ClallamCountyLiving ...it's gonna trend.

Then Wonder Woman turned and leaned out the window and handed me my 16-ounce iced, white chocolate, triple Americano with cream, and it was easy on the ice. I looked up at her, like the goddess she is, and said, "What do I owe you?" And she said, "Nothing!"

So I made the face you make when someone gives you something that you didn't expect and insisted I pay. To which she replied, "Nope. This one's on me. It's been a pleasure talking with you." I thanked her, and handed her three bucks and told her it's for her "fun fund" jar.

And then I told the Scantily Clad Wonder Woman Barista to make sure she does a breast self-exam...because that's how I found my lump. Also, if you look really closely at my Wonder Woman Talisman, you can see that the yellow from her outfit is worn off, you guys...because rubbing Wonder Woman's boobs while you're going through breast cancer treatment brings good luck.

That's what I told myself anyway.

A little bit of luck, and a whole bunch of research and science.

And gratitude.

For all the things.