#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

Headed Out

So...it's been awhile...

And somehow saying, "Greetings and salutations!" doesn't seem quite right.

How's the Stay Home Order treating you and yours? Who's on you're #quaranteam?

I mean, at least we don't have 36 goddamn inches of snow on the ground...which...depending on if you're a Stephen King fan or a Twilight Zone fan...has the potential for a little fun...Yeah....

Anyway, so my family is managing, like any family, to the best of it's current ability amid the Coronavius Pandemic. Many families are in survival mode. And survival mode sucks. Speaking from experience as a mom of a 13-year-old boy who is living with a rare form of epilepsy, and has been seizing since he was 3...I get it. Survival mode completely fucking sucks. Oh, and cancer in each parent in two years was also survival mode. Subsequently, this survival mode is just how my home functions on the daily because epilepsy, autism, and surviving cancers is, thankfully, how we roll here at The Anderson Family Circus.

At first, my husband and I largely took turns leaving our home during the Stay Home order. Since I'm the Purchasing Department and the Creative Culinary Force/Primary Food Source, I'd make a trip to Safeway...which is a blog in and of itself. My husband, in order to escape the Monkey House, would make the trip all the way into town to go to the Post Office. Which, in our world, is a guarantee of 40 minutes alone time, round trip. We discussed logistics of our new to us as a family version of survival mode, and agreed to use InstaCart for our Costco Purchases.

Anyway, so collectively, the four of us have not left our home together as a family since Wednesday March 18th. The weekend before, everything had come to a screeching halt, and our school district was emailing parents each day with the rapidly changing shit show in the earliest days of the Coronavirus Pandemic. Wednesday was the first day students were permitted to retrieve their

belongings, and, in this instance, better an hour early than a minute late. Get in, get out, get on with life. #LifeNeverGoesAsPlanned #StoryForAnotherTime But I will say that not everyone was able to pick up his belongings. Some people are amazing and get kids and understand how community works. Other people don't.

Annnnnyyyyyyyyway...third Saturday in May was our first venture out, as a family, in two solid months. And, yes, we wore our masks. Because it's all the rage. And alllllll the cool kids are doing it. #AndAlso the CDC says. In my house, tend to subscribe to the fascinating belief system called science!






Science is really cool.

You guys, I really captured our essences with watermelon, cats, Spirograph, and Star Wars fabrics. #Obvs

So aside from the fact that the CDC recommends them and I totally #NailedIt with these fabulous fabrics, and we look like a goddamn bunch of badasses, why am I wearing a mask? Because of my Cancer Adventure in 2015. My husband is choosing to wear a mask because of his own Cancer Situation (can we call it that? Cancer Situation? Can we finally name it?) in 2016. #AndAlso the American Cancer Society, who is responsible for a lot of sciencey stuff, says, "Most people who were treated for cancer in the past (especially if it was years ago) are likely to have normal immune function, but each person is different."

My family is different. We've been struck by lightening. Several times, actually. So I prefer to not call down the thunder. The Fates.

Because the stories of kids contracting Coronavirus...and a parent not being able to go in. What? You mean if one of my children contracts COVID-19 and is hospitalized, my husband and/or I would not be permitted to be with him? I can't even wrap my brain around that. What if it's my child who is disabled and what about his meds and how will he take them and can I get his CBD oil in him and how will he understand what you're doing to him and WAIT! 

So now up here in Washington State, and specifically in my little community, where you can get dirty looks at the Post Office for wearing a mask while walking towards your hybrid...maybe she just had RBF...but the sticker on her rig told me otherwise...we're getting ready to go into Phase 2. On Monday, June 1st. So, like tomorrow. And as a cancer survivor who was a cancer care giver and we have a kiddo with myriad neurological disabilities, reopening is fucking terrifying. My former home state of Arizona recently reopened and apparently Mill Ave was hopping like there wasn't a respiratory virus running around. WTF Tempe? Get your shit together. #FuckinMaricopaCounty #ScumDevils

Will communities that reopen see an increase in cases? Absolutely. The good thing about living up here on the North Olympic Peninsula, we have been lucky to have (a) a very low number of cases, and (b) no community transmission. Basically, everyone who's been diagnosed with Coronavirus in Clalllam County contracted the disease when they traveled outside of the county. So they got up and bounced over to Seattle...and then they got the 'rona, and then they brought it home. Does this concern me? Absolutely. I get it: sometimes we need to travel. But right now, we all need to figure out what's an essential trip and what's not. We need to make health decisions not only for ourselves, but for our community. And by wearing a mask, I'm saying: "I see you. I recognize that I do not know if I've been exposed to Coronavirus. But I do not want to risk your health."

It's kinda like saying, "Hey, I'm really sexually active and I need to use a condom, not because I am worried you're going to give me something, I'm more concerned I'm going to give you something, and that would really suck. So let's still have sex. But be safe about it."

In this example, we're saying we like to have sex. Right? Totally on board with that. But can you imagine if HIV was transmitted as easily as Coronavirus? "Hey, I'm really into breathing and being alive and I need to wear a mask, not because I'm worried you're going to give me something, I'm more concerned I'm going to give you something, and that would really suck. So let's breathe the same air. But be safe about it."

So, as a woman who's family has been the beneficiary of an incredible and selfless team of people who have picked up the shattered pieces of me, I wear my mask for you. I wear my mask for the kids who are dealing with all the health issues, and who absorb so many fuckin needle sticks and electrodes and tests and surgeries that an adult would cave. Those kids are already used to people wearing masks and gloves. Reading people's eyes. Knowing kindness. Or malice. Based solely upon the person's eyes.


And what is that going to look like for all of the people who were out protesting yesterday? Will there be an increase in the number of Coronavirus cases across the country? Absolutely. And how do you feel, knowing that the United States of America is leading the pack with the number of deaths caused by this disease? Is it a badge of honor for you? Have we, culturally, really become that desensitized to death?

Maybe the protesters aren't "just" protesting the systemic racial injustice that they have experienced for hundreds of years in a country they were forcibly brought to. Maybe there was a little bit of angst about the fact that blacks are dying at significantly higher rates from like, every goddamn disease, including Coronavirus?

So, when we re-open tomorrow, will much change for us as a community? No. However, our summertime tourist season is fixing to start and while we are all relying on that influx of money, it may or may not come immediately...but it will come, and with it will come an increase of cases. When we look at pandemics over time, let's say the Spanish Flu, which is also called the 1918 Flu, and, curiously, started on an Army Base in...wait for it...Kansas! It's called Spanish Flu because Spain wasn't involved in WWI and their press was free to report about this emerging illness, the US, France, Germany, and others, all perceived that the Spanish "started" the flu. Anyway a hundred years later, estimates of 20 million to an 50 million people died during the 1918/Spanish Flu Pandemic. That's a lot of goddamn people you guys...

So second wave...it's coming. For all of us. When? I don't know, you guys...because, again, I'm not an oracle. I'm just a mom that's gotta get dinner going for her kids, ya know?

Thanks for reading. Stay safe out there. And most importantly, please be kind. You can never tell what a person is dealing with, just based on the eyes above their face mask.

Heading Out

I'll be heading out soon.

To the grocery store. Which also happens to be our pharmacy. My kid has epilepsy and is on a lot of pharmaceutical medications to control his seizures. But he still seizes.

So I'll be heading out soon.

Normally this isn't a big deal in my world. I mean, it's just going to the grocery store, walking up and down each aisle and meal planning as I go. Getting food for several days. Chatting with my favorite employees in different departments. Catching up with my favorite cashiers about life. Friendly faces. Paying. Loading up. Going home. No big deal.

There have, of course, been times in my life where going to the grocery store was a huge undertaking and horribly scary. Like the first time I headed out to the grocery store by myself with a brand new baby. WTF? #Terrifying But I eventually mastered that nonsense.

And then I was crazy enough to take both a toddler and an infant? #WhoDoesThat Did I really do that? How do women with more than two kids do this? You ladies are fuckin amazing batshit crazy brave wow good for you! #ItsNotACompetition

I know I had one of those fancy cart cover seats that I made out of fleece and denim so that I put a physical barrier in between my toddler and the germ-infested cart. Jesus, child! Don't gnaw on the cart handle! Who does that?

When I was going through my Breast Cancer Adventure in 2015, going to the grocery store was scary. Why? Because receiving chemotherapies caused my immune system to be weaker. So, I started wiping off the grocery cart handles. And people would give me these looks like I was freak. But then they would see that I was a bald lady and then they'd quickly avert their eyes. As if making eye contact with a bald woman was going to actually give them cancer. My mental health therapist at the time encouraged me to ask for help from the clerks..."Let the courtesy clerks load your groceries in your car, Rachel! You're being treated for cancer, for goodness sake! It's ok to ask for help." I gave myself permission to accept the help from the clerks. And all three boys unloaded all of the groceries when I got home. The kids were in first and third grade; they were much more eager to help back then.

When my husband was going through is Tonsil Cancer Adventure in 2016, I kept wiping cart handles because Sweet Mother of Christ what if I got some germs on my hands and brought those germs home and he contracted whatever illness was carried on those germs and I killed my husband? Seriously. Having cancer in the house one time caused us to re-frame our thinking for everyfuckinthing. Having cancer in the house a second time two years in a row caused us to up our game even more. When your husband is being kept alive by two catheters...one going to his stomach and the other going to his heart...there is absolutely no fucking around with the tightness of the ship you run.

Now that my kids are older, going to the grocery store become a sort of meditation for me. I really do walk up and down each aisle. I really do know that my friend #MaAm totally makes fun of me for doing so bc she's an in-and-out type of gal. I really do meal plan as I go. And sometimes I end up getting things that aren't on the list...because I remember that I need it when I see it. Like dishwasher detergent. Or parchment paper (thanks JT for that brilliant suggestion!).

But now, because of Coronavirus, going to the grocery store has become a big anxiety-causing deal. On the upside, I don't have to go often. #AndAlso I can feed two birds with one hand since our pharmacy is inside our grocery store. #SafewayForTheWin (Also, see what I did there? Feed two birds with one hand instead of killing them? #ImSoClever #Rhetoric #MmmHmm)

We placed an order for delivery from Costco.com, and everything went really smoothly. I mean, I actually spent less than I normally do. Annnnd I got paper towels and toilet paper...?! Anytime you can get out of Costco, especially without going into Costco, for less than $200...? Win!

When I called the grocery store's pharmacy, I spoke with My Favorite Pharmacist, who, small town, his son used to work for my husband in the Math Lab. Because of the fact that my son takes so many meds, I'm a frequent flyer at the pharmacy, and it's seriously like Cheers when I step up to the counter: everybody knows my name. Also, I'm very thankful for stellar health insurance...but that's a blog post for another time.

According to the American Cancer Society, "Most people who were treated for cancer in the past (especially if it was years ago) are likely to have normal immune function, but each person is different. It's important that all cancer patients and survivors, whether currently in treatment or not, talk with a doctor who understands their situation and medical history." (para.2)  On the one hand, I just celebrated the fifth anniversary of my lumpectomy, and five years is a huge milestone for cancer survivors, so I'm very thankful to be here. On the other hand, my anxiety is sky high because that's just how it is. Also, the last time I was out in the community was on Saturday March 21st...two and a half weeks...it's been a while.

When I spoke with My Favorite Pharmacist, I reminded him about My Cancer Adventure, and he said that there are special times the store has set aside for folks who may have a compromised immune system: seniors, pregnant women, and others with health issues. He encouraged me to go to the store during that time.

We talked about mailing my son's meds...but we have a PO Box, so that would mean going to the Post Office and risk exposing myself. Because I know that the more places I go, the more exposure to germs I have, the more likely I am to get sick. Or infect my husband, who also happens to have a bicuspid aortic valve and survived staph endocarditis prior to his Tonsil Cancer Adventure. Or I could infect my older son. What's the truth about rationing health care for people living with disabilities? Would the hospital where he was born treat him? How would they manage him? Could I be with him? Because there are stories surfacing that when a person is really sick with Covid-19, they aren't allowed to have visitors. How will that work with my son and his verbal delay and limited cognitive abilities? He's developmentally in the first grade. Would I ever see him again? Or I could infect my younger son, who probably knows more about epilepsy, autism, ADHD, breast cancer, tonsil cancer, and broken arms than most kids who are on the cusp of turning 11. And if I infect him, then he won't go on to earn #AllTheOscars. Or win the Nobel Prize for Whatever. He'll probably petition the Nobel Committee to include Mathematics. Did you know that there is no Nobel Prize for Mathematics? No shit. The Math Prof Rock Star said the legend is that a mathematician ran off with Dr Nobel's wife. But in reality, nobody knows why Nobel chose to not include mathematics. Maybe he just wasn't mathy...?

But he did dig on chemistry.

And that's important to me.

Because my kid needs his meds. To mostly control his seizures.

So I'll be heading out soon.

And, yes, #MaAm, I'll go up and down each aisle. Because who knows when the next time I'll be able to get out.

And we all know dishwasher detergent will be important to have during the next phase of the #Coronapocolypse.

Boss Level of Being an Adult Child

You guys, I think I just arrived at the Boss Level of Being an Adult Child.

For real.

A few weeks ago, my Dad called me and left a voicemail saying he needed my "expertise on some medical issues"...which is a really big fat fuckin' deal in my world.

Who's calling?!

My Dad comes from a very traditional Southern Arizona Mexican Catholic home, which means the parents have the last word, especially the males because machismo is a thing. So asking for help, especially your adult female child...it's a big fat fuckin' deal in his life, too. So, I'm recognizing that it took some courage for him to reach the point of asking me. Alternatively, he's that desperate. But, let's see the good in this situation...since that's how I mostly choose to live...mostly.

Anyway, so my Mom has dementia, but we call it "memory issues" since "dementia" is kinda a bad word for them and forces them to face reality. Whatever word or phrase you'd like to use is up to you. But, just so ya know, it is well documented that people who experience this heartbreaking brain disease also suffer from abnormal sleep. While neuro-specialists don't know why this happens, they do know it happens...and my Mom hasn't been sleeping well at night. She has anxiety when she lays down...and I do to...so I completely understand. I'd reckon that many mothers have anxiety...and here's information about how to help yourself....

But for seniors who are managing dementia, it's different. Watching your spouse decline due to disease...and not being able to leave them alone...I completely understand that...and it really fuckin sucks...but, cancer isn't the same as dementia. When I was supporting my husband as he went through his experience with HPV-caused tonsil cancer in 2016, there were times I was afraid he was going to die. There were times we'd have hard discussions about life and death, and how outcomes look different for individuals and families. There are so many variables with cancer...it depends on the type of cancer, the stage, how early it is detected, if it's spread, if it's operable, if the cancer responds to treatment, how the patient responds to treatment...the first round of chemo nearly killed my husband.

Yet, with memory loss, there's just this sense of her slipping away into this blackness from which she'll never surface. Like, give up hope, watch her decline, nothing we can do except keep her as comfortable as possible. Sorry, Charlie.

And the concept of "giving up" goes against pretty much every fiber of my being. When my older son was four, he was diagnosed with seizure disorder, at age six, he was diagnosed with autism and ADHD (and NO, it's not ok to give him a 20-ounce red fucking Power Ade as a reward #StoryForAnotherTime). Around the age of eight, he was diagnosed with a rare form of epilepsy called Lennox-Gaustaut Syndrome. And when he was little, each and every time we'd visit his pediatric neurologist at Seattle Children's Hospital, I'd ask his neurologist if, in the research, there are cases of kids outgrowing their seizures. Our doc, who's an incredibly gracious older gentleman, and has a wonderfully dry sense of humor, says things like, "Well, now, you're asking me to tell the future, and my crystal ball is cracked, so it's never accurate," and his eyes crinkle when he smiles at me. There's a chance, since my son has now entered the super-fun stage of Puberty that his seizures will decrease...time will tell.

Since I've never given up hope on my kid, it's counter-intuitive for me to give up on my mom...even though we aren't close geographically or emotionally. My parents are the least tech savvy people on the planet, so videoing is out of the question. I wonder if the family photos we took in November at my brother's wedding will be the last one of the four of us....?

And, yes, all of the above mentioned diseases suck in a big way. It's not that one's worse than the other. But, managing all of them at the same time is an incredible burden, which can feel oppressive on occasion. Like when I sit down and write about them all.

Anyway. So, Mom's not sleeping at night when it's easier for Dad to sleep, because let's face it, he's not nocturnal. Also, for those of us who are the primary caregivers, we need to sleep too, and it's much easier for everyone if everyone just sleeps at night, mkay?

So, my folks went to the doc a few weeks ago and the doc gave her a 'script for 90 days of Ambien. And then the pharmacist could only administer 30 days because it's a controlled substance, and Dad's not particularly happy about that, which I get, but dude, laws are in place because #JesusKnows we do not really need to have anyone misunderstand the directions on the bottle (can she still read?) and really you're only supposed to take Ambien for a short period of time...like 4-5 weeks...unless you have your doc's approval...but #SweetJesus can't ya give her something else?

Yes. Yes you can.

Soooo...it turns out Dad called me to ask me my expertise about giving Mom medical marijuana.

In Southern Arizona.

Holy. Jesus. You. Guys.

Does this really need a caption?

#Winning

#BossLevelOfBeingAnAdultChild

#HoldMyBong

So, lemme stop here and give you a little backstory that my parents were total stoners before Reagan's 1986 White House and the Just Say No anti-drug campaign. It was in 1988 that the Fed started mandating random drug testing for it's own employees and contractors. Dad worked for an international builder of private airplanes that, at the time, had plants in both Tucson, Arizona and Wichita, Kansas. #ThanksJesus for not making us move to Kansas when I was in Jr. High (because that's what it was called back then...I went to Fickett Jr. High. No really. Fickett. #WhatTheFuckKindaNameIsThat #GodBless and really, it's totally ok to laugh at this, #duh).

And, so because Dad built cabinets for these multi-million dollar private airplanes, and the company had contracts with the Federal Government, random drug testing became a reality for my Dad. Thankfully, he didn't want to loose his job due to a positive UA (and I don't mean the University of Arizona), so he and my Mom stopped smoking pot. It was a team effort, you guys. Worth noting: my Dad ended up loosing his job anyway because of Reganomics...or Voodoo Economics.

For the record, the 80's were a time of mixed messages for Gen-Xers: we had the White House telling us to not use drugs via the DARE Program (proven ineffective)...and then we had Nike telling us to Just Do It. It's a wonder my generation survived the 80's in America. #ThankJesus for movies like The Breakfast Club to help us understand ourselves. 

I'm surprised Dad called; Mochi's pretending.

So, like any girl who's dad just called for help, I advised him that, yes, it'll be ok...and no, you won't make her overdose. True overdose like your lips turn blue and you suffocate? No. Administer too much, she gets happy, eats a little too much, and then sleeps her ass off? Yes.

In fairness, my parents were hardcore smokers, and back then, edibles weren't a thing like they are today. In fact, the idea of eating marijuana was considered like "the next level" of using. Or wasteful. I'm not sure which. But, the purists were smokers.

My parents were looking at my mom having a tincture, which is used sparingly. "The key," I said to my dad on the phone, "is to start low and go slow. And absolutely listen to the bud-tender behind the counter at the marijuana dispensary. That person will provide you the most information about the product you're giving her."

We chatted for a few more minutes, he said he'd keep me posted on how it goes. "Dad, it's not going to hurt either of you to take a few hits off a joint. But use caution: the marijuana today is not like the marijuana you were smoking when you were younger. It's stronger. More potent. So you'll only need a puff or two, and you'll get high. In my experience of being a care-giver, there are days that I feel overwhelmed. And while I know those feelings will come and go, I think it's ok to use marijuana as a form of medication for people who need it. It helps with my son's epilepsy and his anxiety. It helped me get through breast cancer. It helped my husband with his tonsil cancer. So, based on the fact that three out of four of my immediate members of my home have used it in different forms, for over 5-1/2 years, I have confidence that it will help Mom sleep. It may be helpful for you to connect with her to smoke a little with her."

"Maybe," he said. "It's been a long time."

"Yeah," I said. "But maybe each of you will relax enough that you can both sleep. I love you, Dad. You're doing the right thing by looking into different options to help her. You're not going to hurt her by putting a few drops of the tincture onto a spoon or into some hot tea. She'll be ok."

He thanked me for sharing my knowledge and supporting him as he pursues this on her behalf. I reminded him that he needs to work within the laws that the State of Arizona has, since the laws in Washington State are going to be different.

And I'm happy to report that now, she's sleeping better at night than she has been in years. #ThankJesus for marijuana, you guys. It's an important plant and has so many different ways of helping people. That said, it's not a panacea and, like any drug, may not work for everyone. And I firmly believe that the Federal Government needs to stop fighting the cultural change that has been occurring in our country around marijuana. They need to be like Elsa and Let it Go.

Days Are Running Together

Wednesday morning all four of us left the safety of our home and went to the boys' schools. And, #SweetBabyJesus that was a knife to the heart.

We stopped at my younger son's elementary school first, and saw numerous caring adults who have been working with my family for years that provided an array of expressions, including disbelief, worry, and genuine sadness. I think this is typically called "deer in the headlights." But it's also known as "unexpected traumatic stress." This is exactly what we are all dealing with because of the sudden closures of schools across Washington State on Monday.

Schools across the nation are in the process of shutting down and not opening to the public. There's never been anything like this...oh...wait...except the 1918-1919 influenza pandemic. And, then there was the H1N1 flu. Since we're likely to be locked up, or locked down...? Huh. What's it called? Squat and stay? No. I think it's "Sheltering In Place". Yes! So since we'll be #ShelteringInPlace for an extended period, I encourage you to get your hands on a copy of The Great Influenza: The Story of the Deadliest Pandemic in History by John M. Barry. Yes, it's available on Kindle. You're welcome.

Anyway. In spite of My Three Fellas knowing I'm the social butterfly of the family, we all know that I know the layout of the school better than my husband, so we agreed that I'd accompany our younger son in to his school to retrieve his stuff. And, yes, I agreed to seriously limit my throwing of jazz hands and talking with people. And I'd sure as shit not get closer than six goddamn feet to people, even though we mostly know I'm a hugger (mostly).

The front door was held open for us by one of the male paras, I felt a need to bow as if I was walking into the dojang. We stopped and sanitized our hands as we walked in and were greeted by The Commander, who directed us to touch as few things as possible. We quickly and quietly headed down the hall towards the classrooms and touched absolutely nothing. I step where you step. I touch nothing.

My son and I went to his homeroom first, read the notes left by the Compassionate Boundary Setter on her white board, gathered his materials and belongings, left what was required on the desk, and swiftly left the room. We stopped by his locker and quickly put his things in his backpack, zipping it as we walked. Quiet. His long dark hair waving in the breeze he created as we walked, which was covered by his Dad's black Bugs Bunny baseball cap, which is more than twice his age.

Mochi gives zero shits that Sir Paul is home.

We headed down the hall towards the classroom belonging to She With the Largest Fifth Grade Library and were pleasantly surprised to see her behind the kidney table, with stacks of books, which she had somehow magically obtained books for the kids to read. #OfCourseSheDid We exchanged pleasantries, but in a hurried way...don't want to linger...two other fellas in the car. Do we take Paul? Yes, she said, all their art needs to go home. Thank you. Take care of yourself and your family. 

And then, my son looks towards the milk crate that holds the weekly Red Wednesday Folder, which the school uses to send materials and communication home. The Folder is to be emptied and signed by a child's parental unit, and returned to school the next day. Now, this is actually pretty hysterical because for years I've volunteered countless hours in my son's classrooms collating the Red Wednesday Folder. Like, it's even known as #RedFolderRecon and this is why Wednesday is my family's favorite day of the week: I get to volunteer. Standing around the table, one, or perhaps all three of us, said something about Wednesday Folders, laughed, and said our goodbye's, as we briskly walked back to his homeroom for the one item we left: my son's Red Wednesday Folder. #MyLifeIsAComicBook


Back down the hall, hurry, passed our favorite paras, can't breathe, wishing only the best for each other and all of us, pick up the pace, towards the front door and the door handle! #Cooties Ew, child! Dude! Arms in! Thank you for holding the door open, Mr. Ridge Para! Blue sky! Green trees! Breathe!

We were in and out in under three minutes, but it felt like three hours. Thanks to all of the folks at Roosevelt for being so on top of everything. You are all amazing and we already really miss you. Commander, I'm thankful you're at the helm. Be well. #OnceACougarAlwaysACougar

My family then drove across town to the middle school, where we discovered the parking lot was pretty empty. Our older son decided he wanted all four of us to go in, so we did. I'd received an email and a robocall from the school that I owed $1.65 for my son...so I dug the change out of my wallet in the car on our drive to the school. Because, in all of this shit that's going down, I will not be indebted to the school for any amount of money; there are bigger problems in the world.

When we walked into the entrance to the school, there was a hand sanitizing station, so we stopped and sanitized before entering. There were tables flanking the entrance, stacked with books for the kids to take. Twist our arms to take free books. I mean. Thanks!

The middle school was a completely different story in terms of access. Kids were not allowed in the classrooms, they could go to their lockers. But my son doesn't have a locker because he's a Special Education Kid, so that was off the table. As for going in to his classroom? The one where he spends 5 out of 6 periods, including his lunchtime? Yeah...that's a no go, too...but I've known that since school started in September, when I asked my son's Special Education Teacher how I can help her by volunteering my time...and she said she doesn't allow parent volunteers. #WishICouldMakeThisUp and it really does get better...or maybe worse, depending on your world view. #ButNowsNotTheTime

While my husband kept the boys busy in the entryway, I ran down to the cafeteria and paid the outstanding debt of $1.65. I ran back up to the front of the school #RunningIsBullshit and then we graciously and quickly said our goodbyes to the Vice Principal and the few staff members.

We came home and ate lunch. We spent a good part of the afternoon outside. Swinging is so therapeutic for them.

He's trained. 

Annnnyyywaaaayyyy.....

Remember that whole, "we need to reschedule your annual mammogram" thing from earlier in the week? Yeah. Well apparently, when you're a breast cancer survivor,  and your medical oncologist orders a mammogram, you get that shit done, regardless if there's a virus running around out there that is killing people. Am I still immunocompromised because of My Cancer Adventure? I could probably Google all that shit, but to be safe, I'll say, probably yes. #FirmAnswer

So I went today, to the hospital and as many times as I've walked in...to see my husband when he was near death when he had staph endocarditis...to deliver both my babies (they were born in the same room; water side)...the emergency room visits for broken arms and stitches in the chin (all my 10yo)...to my lumpectomy five years ago today...this was by far the most anxious I've been to walk in the front door of my community hospital. #StayTheFuckAwayFromMe #Bitches

There was a new to me security detail, who checked me in at the desk, because the lady working was on the phone...and I told him where I was going, he looked me up and gave me a 3x5 card size neon green sticker granting me access to the Imaging Department on 3/20/20 only.

I walked back to the office and checked in, and talked with the receptionist because it's a small town and I know a lot of people because I'm a social butterfly like that. But really it's because our kids go went to the same school.

I waited and waited and refused to sit because what if someone with Coronavirus but is not showing symptoms was just in the chair that I choose to sit in? What if I get the virus on my pants and then its in my car and then I sit on my bed without thinking and then I totally just wasted all of my time washing my quilt on my bed yesterday. I'll just stand. For forty minutes. Because someone was in surgery and they needed the mammographer lady...? And I don't fucking know can we just get this done? Today of all days? And with this mother of all viruses? I just wanna go home and swing.

The tech was lovely, and had stellar PPE (Personal Protection Equipment) including a FACE SHIELD! She was incredibly apologetic about being late...but she is taking extra precautions and wiping everything down with wipes. Including the hooks where I hung my hoodie. I asked. #OfCourseIDid

She sent my boob pics to the radiologist immediately and came back in. Everyone's anxiety is through the roof right now and they both completely understood my desire to know. And I'm clear. So much gratitude to have the scans read immediately.

I bounced outta there and headed to a few stores, because goddamnit the Governor could lock us down at any minute, just like California, New York. And now Illinois. But the Governor of Washington also has confidence in us as citizens, and that we'll stay home and that he won't have to officially lock us down.

Please, people, stay home with your family. The only way we can combat this disease is to stay home. And that means no play dates for kids. No swingers parties for adults. Do not leave your house. Stay. Home. Do not have people over to your house. They need to stay in their own home. Social Distancing is a legit way to combat this. And if we all step up now, in the springtime, and STAY HOME then perhaps we won't have to during the summer and perhaps we can return to the lake and the beach and the trails. But only if we all work together and STAY HOME!!!!

Am I looking forward to homeschooling my kids? Not especially. Am I expecting the OSPI and my local school district to step up and help parents? Absolutely. But they have to consider equity. All the kids need to be provided the same educational opportunities. Basically, my kids have access to computers and internet. But, if you have a kid who doesn't have secure housing, they sure the fuck don't have a computer and can't do their assignments. So that's not very equal, and that kid is gonna get left in the dust. So the State of Washington is trying to figure out how to help ALL THE KIDS. And I mean the highly capable kids, and the neurotypical kids, and the kids who have delays. The State has a HUGE systems change that they are being forced to look at because of the pandemic.

One of the things I've been trying to work through this week with The Fellas is that we all had the rug pulled out from under us...and we need to give grace, and allow time and patience to figure out new ways to live. We were all scrambling on Monday. But we made it a week! And the sun has been out, which I can attest that absolutely made this easier! Can you imagine if we were dealing with this on a grey week? #SweetBabyJesus

So, as a whole, if we've made it this far, while we don't have any way of knowing what's coming, we do have the opportunity to prevent as much sickness and misinformation as possible. You can find information at CDC, NIH, and WHO. 

Thanks for reading. Stay home. Wash your hands. Be well.

-Rachel

PS. And eat all the motherfuckin ice cream, because why the fuck not?! Thanks, Em! Your ass better be at HOME!!!! 

Don't worry, Meghan, I'm not calling you out.

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

Monday March 16, 2020

My husband and I made the decision last night, after the blog was posted and we officially unplugged for the day at 9:00 pm, to not send the boys to school on Monday.

And then the school district called at 9:26 pm Sunday evening, notifying parents that because of Governor Inslee's decision to not allow groups of 50 or more...and 50 or less...that was going into effect on Monday. I didn't get the message until I woke up Monday morning...and it looked like the entire State of Washington was starting to shut down.

I headed into town early to make absolutely sure I had alternative medications in my tool kit. If shit is going down, I'll do everything in my power to help my kid not seize. We agreed that it was ok to leave the boys home alone for 15 minutes if need be; something we never do. My husband had to give two exams at 9 am; we passed each other on the road...they were alone for less than 10.

The boys watched a lot of TV today. I streamed BonnieTV...not really, but my dear friend Bonnie owns Little Rhythms Learning Center and she is using Facebook Live to provide lessons for her students...and whoever wants to watch. She's delightful! Thanks, Bonnie, for doing this for all of us. I'll provide live fact-checking on animals whenever I can--haha! Did you guys know that there are actually three species of elephants? Yup. I learned about three elephant species when this dude named Mike Fay did what's called the Megatransect and trekked across the Congo in 1999; he discovered the third species.

Annnnyyywaaaayyyy.....

About noon today, the school district superintendent sent a mass email apologizing for the late notice to cancel school, and letting us know they are working to figure out when kids can go to their school and get their stuff. The Super stated this is an unprecedented time, and asked for the our patience. He also encouraged us to use this week as a sort of spring break...and it sounds like there will be some type of instructional support in place for families in the coming days. And I get it. He made a decision to protect students, staff, and faculty...and for this I am thankful. Oh, and the school district is going to be providing meals for free to kids at the schools, in the parking lot.

Really, nobody knows WTAF is going on since all things surrounding Coronavirus are happening so fast. And you can't not hear about it on the radio station from Victoria, BC, and you can't not see it on social media. It is in your face all the time overwhelming and depressing and scary and stressful. And it's ok to feel that way.

But the sun was out today. And it was warm.

So, for our first day of being at home and mostly hunkering down...mostly...I cleaned, because that helps me decompress. And something told me to call the guy who pumps our septic tank...since it's been a while and we're typically home a lot and we'll be home even more...and I'd rather be proactive than reactive...because I sure the fuck don't need to deal with a failed septic system when we end up like Italy on lock-down. Get ready. San Francisco just did it. It could happen. I anticipate it'll start on the I-5 corridor and spread. But, I'm no oracle, you guys. All I'm saying is nobody is immune to this virus, and we all need to practice social distancing, because it's not a snow day.

Annnnyyywaaaayyyy.....

After the septic guy did his thing, and took my money--and it was full, you guys, like, I'm so glad I listened to my intuition--I finally had my husband alone in the house for two minutes so we could catch-up, since the boys were outside. Next thing I know, my 10-year-old comes down the hall and into our bedroom and says, "Nathan was trying to ride his bike down the slide and fell off!" And everything stopped.

I remained calm and walked outside. Oh Fucking CHRIST! THIS is new! I wonder who's idea THIS was! Why TODAY? Of all days when we absolutely do not need to go near a goddamn emergency room! Please don't let anything be broken. And not a hit to his head. When I got to our swing set in the backyard...the one that my kids have been playing on for what will be 10 years this spring...my 13-year-old was sitting up, with his bike helmet off, the bike on the ground, and scratches on the left side of his face, some mulch on his left shoulder and left knee. I think his Crocs fell off...? Or maybe he took them off before he climbed up? Who fuckin knows?

So it scared the shit out of him. And I'm really really REALLY thankful we opted for rubber mulch because he basically bounced. Kinda. I assessed his joints asked him if he hurt anywhere. He said "I'm fine, Maaawwwmmm!" So, he was ok...but he also has an incredibly high pain tolerance, because it's part of his autism and it can be scary sometimes...like that time he fell on his fingers and had two hairline fractures but it didn't bother him till the next morning.

I asked him to tell me what happened and he looked at me like I was some kind of dumb bitch and he says, "I FELL!" And he rolled his eyes! It was fantastic! I have these little glimmers of neurotypical teenage development and sass...and it's really pretty funny!

Anyway, he said he wanted to ride his bike down the slide, so he hauled his bike up the bars, and then put his bike up on the first deck, and then up on the second deck, and then he got on his bike to ride down and he fell and he landed on his stomach and his shoulder and the bike landed on his back. OUCH!

In the older picture on the right, the bars are horizontal, and in the background. So he carried his bike up those, to the lower deck, which is about 5 feet tall...and then to the upper deck, which is about 7 feet tall...and eventually to the slide where Isaac (purple shirt) is standing. And attempted to ride down. On the first day of Coronavirus: Schooling Optional Eventually, Spring 2020. Totally not on my lesson plan, you guys.

Thank Jesus he's had it drilled into his head from the time he was on a trike that he has to wear a helmet. Because the helmet is toast. Like, in a couple of pieces, it's so disturbing I don't want to put up a picture type of broken.

He managed to get up and walk into the house on his own. He agreed to taking a bath, which helps him decompress, and get the nastiness from the mulch off of you. He hasn't complained of pain at all, but he does have some bruises. My concern is for his left shoulder, since he didn't want to move it too much. So, we'll see what tomorrow brings.

I spoke with my 10-year-old regarding what happened. He said that he watched his brother carry the bike up the bars and couldn't believe what he was seeing. He said he called for us but we never came outside. I suggested that next time he run to the house, yelling for us, and that we'd likely hear him.

I introduced the words "dumbstruck" and "stupefied"...yay new spelling words! Unschooling ROCKS! Oh, and by the way, I homeschooled a special needs kid when I had my Breast Cancer Adventure five years ago...and if I can do it, YOU can do it, you guys. And finally, I'm looking forward to celebrating the fifth anniversary of my lumpectomy on Friday! But I'm disappointed that tattoo parlors are closed down...I was planning on getting a little something to commemorate the occasion...but since Coronavirus is still lurking out there...what will tomorrow bring? Really, at the end of the day, I just don't want you to be Mochi about what's happening. Because it is serious business. And always wear a bike helmet when you ride down a slide.