coronavirus has swept the country in Week 30. flatten the curve! i probably should have been writing things down during the week, given that basically every day is the same around here. lots of sleep, lots of internet, lots of board games, lots of wondering how long the toilet paper supplies will hold. (don't worry, my in-laws are hooking us up soon).

the beginning of the week was the now-usual blur of nothing and everything. (i'm sure many of you can now relate). the only blip on the radar for me was a shower on tuesday night, and including it as an Actual Event sort of makes me sound like i am seven years old, and in many ways, i feel like it. it takes me some time to take showers, and put on shirts, and socks, and shoes, and coats, so getting me ready and/or out the door is like every sitcom montage of a kid taking forever to get dressed to go anywhere. but with less tantrums. anyway, it was another shower involving press and seal out of an abundance of caution, and another shower where i wonder if i will ever get proper sensations back on the left side of my body. it's really weird and it really messes with my brain and i really want to go back in time to when none of this was ever even a concern of mine. alas, here we are.

wednesday afternoon was the post-op appointment with dr. h. upon opening my gown, she exclaimed, "your incision looks great!" i paused momentarily, because remember, this is the very surgeon who performed my mastectomy. i mean, she's not WRONG, but i had to stop myself from pointing out that it seemed just a wee bit self-congratulatory. she noted that the tape over the incision was still pretty intact (i think showering is supposed to help it come off, but if you have been paying attention, dear reader, showering is a bit of a chore nowadays). hilariously, she had to leave the exam room to get a pair of gloves. BECAUSE PEOPLE ARE STEALING GLOVES. FROM THE EXAM ROOMS. WHAT THE HELL. anyway, she came back begloved and proceeded to remove the still very sticky tape all along my incision and she apologized for it and it wasn't exactly painful but it wasn't exactly pleasant and i suspect she might think i am a weirdo with poor hygiene but hey i just try to follow directions. it's funny, because the thought of removing the tape myself would never occur to me, and indeed would seem grossly negligent to me, while an expert is like, duh, what is wrong with you child, you don't need this anymore. she reiterated the good news of the pathology report -- the tumor shrinking to 3cm, and just two out of the six removed lymph nodes showing any signs of cancer. also, i keep forgetting about having ductal carcinoma in situ (DCIS) in there somewhere. DCIS is considered pre-invasive/non-invasive stage 0 cancer. i knew this from the biopsies in august, but obviously, we were working on treating the 9cm, stage 3, grade 3, invasive sucker, so the DCIS was just always sort of going to be along for the mastectomy ride. but i thought i should add that here to be thorough, now that we are at the end of the pathology journey. she also suggested that i may not need radiation, but she has a referral in to a radiation oncologist to discuss options.

thursday morning felt oddly familiar: starting the day with numbing cream, press and seal, a blood draw, and a visit with dr. m. upon arriving at the oncology office, there were plenty of warning signs and social distancing reminders and surgical masks as a result of covid-19. we checked in and then it was down the hall for my blood draw. i cannot imagine having to get chemo during this time. besides the obvious problem of being immunosuppressed, visitors are no longer allowed in the infusion area. which, clearly, i get it, but it made me quite sad. cancer is already a bit lonely, and this pandemic certainly isn't helping those in chemo treatment. on my way back to the exam room, i had my usual weigh-in, and showed surprise at the number. i haven't exactly been very active, and my appetite is alive and well, so how did i LOSE weight? andy figured it out before i did, saying, "well...", and subtly gesturing to my chest. OH. RIGHT. RIP, hillary. we settled in to the exam room and soon dr. m arrived in surgical mask and gloves. we went over the good pathology news, and i asked her opinion on radiation. she recommended it, given the state of my reddish breast skin and tumor growth at the beginning of all this. i felt the same; again, we will see what the radiation oncologist says. she then started in on my new regimen for endocrine (hormone) therapy. i had been so focused on the short-term pathology results and radiation plans that i had completely forgotten about this long-term treatment. sad trombone. there will be two drugs i will need to be on to keep my body from producing estrogen, as my particular cancer feeds on it, and we don't want to welcome it back. the first drug is zoladex (goserelin), which is administered via injection into fatty tissue every... six weeks i think? it works by telling the pituitary gland to tell the ovaries to stop producing estrogen. the second drug is aromasin (exemestane), which i believe will be a daily pill i will need to take for five to ten years. it is an aromatase inhibitor, which means it blocks the enzyme aromatase, found throughout the body, from converting hormones into estrogen. farewell estrogen, hello more menopause side effects! good times. at some point, dr. m asked, as i have been asked post-surgery by almost every health professional, "how is the incision looking?" now, each time i am asked this, i know the appropriate and factual and easy answer is "good!"... however, i just cannot help myself, and instinctively and honestly answer, "well, *I* think it looks like a nightmare, but everyone says the incision looks good and is healing well, so... yeah." she asked how i was dealing with it, which we talked about for a bit. i like her a lot. she departed with an air high-five and then we were on our way. andy dropped me off at home while he went to work. however, in half an hour, he was back, with newly granted permission to work from home. he managed to get a decent setup going with his laptop, and i continued with my very busy day of internetting on the couch.

friday was unseasonably warm, and we threw open the windows to let the sun shine in. this accidentally put me into spring cleaning mode, so while andy worked downstairs, i slowly tidied up those areas that usually get ignored: baskets full of receipts and random oddities here, piles of printed but never used recipes there. it was easy and productive and a nice way to spend the day. i think i may have forced andy to watch blades of glory that evening? everything is running together nowadays. (it's mind-bottling!)

at some point on saturday, we went out for groceries and supplies, which now seems prescient given the stay-at-home order being put into place. when we got back, i started up my long-forgotten car and took it for a spin. aside from the tiny pillow to cushion the seat belt across my chest, and some slight discomfort in my left arm, i seem a-ok to return to driving. not that there are going to be many occasions for driving in the near future!

today was a weirdly active sunday. laundry started in the morning... i only have so many shirts i can get in and out of lately, so it is a more common occurence than usual. andy and i tuned in to this morning's livestreamed church service from central in athens, while both doing our own respective physical therapy/exercises all over the living room. i found it comical and efficient. after that, it was lunch and then a nice walk around the neighborhood. it was a decent temperature and sunny, and lots of people were out and about. i think everyone is a little bit starved for human interaction, as there were lots of eye contact and waving and smiling amongst most everyone we came across (plenty of social distancing, of course). there was definitely a "we're all in this together" vibe i was getting. we did some light yard work outside, then organized one of the closets on the main floor (and subsequently filled the guest bedroom closet with lots of old jackets, but that's neither here nor there). in other news, my hair is starting to come back, although the top has been coming in slower than the sides... we took electric clippers to the new salt and pepper strands to even it out a bit. andy made dinner and now here i am, finally finishing this post. overall, recovery is going well, and i welcome you all to join me in The Art Of Staying Inside A Lot, currently in progress for several weeks here. next week, i expect to slowly continue regaining motion in my arm, and also slowly begin to work from home, currently in progress for my colleagues for several days now. social distancing, everyone! let's do this.