You have choices: Donate to support my breast cancer recovery here OR Donate to my GoFundMe page that’s still raising funds to fully fund yet ANOTHER clean water well in Ghana. Download the 2026 RSL Music Guide HERE! Also, fully available in the Dust app. (Big Thanks to Damian T for his collaboration with me this...
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Well. Fuckballs. This isn’t the lottery anyone hopes to win. It’s not the club you dream about joining. But here I am. Some of you have been here before. Some of you might be walking it now. To get my updates along the way, go HERE and click the heart to follow the page. It’s also has details how you might support if moved to do so. Meal Train details are HERE. Here’s the full story: So, I went in for my routine mammogram. My self-referred, annual mammogram. But this time, the radiologist saw something they didn’t like. A spot at the 4:00 area on my left breast. Small, twin masses that raised enough concern to warrant a call-back. An ultrasound biopsy call-back. So, I went in and about 4 days later, I got the results. One mass came back benign—thank you, universe. The other? Not so simple. It was identified as IDC, or invasive ductal carcinoma, with DSIC—precancerous cells, nearby. Breast Cancer. Caught early. In that moment? I felt powerless. Worried. Numb. Shocked. Angry. All of it. And—just to make things more complicated—I also felt grateful, curious, relieved, and strangely hopeful. It felt like I got emotionally abducted, aliens hijacking the control panel, setting off every feeling inside me all at once. I didn’t even know my body could hold that many feelings in one breath, but there I was—trying to make sense of it all while my Bowie dog was already curled up on top of me like a weighted blanket with fur. Just breathing with me. Holding space. Not asking me to figure it out, just letting me be. Breast Cancer. Specifically, ER+ HER2-. That’s my current diagnosis. Which means I am estrogen/progesterone hormone positive, BUT I am HER2-. It is the most common type of breast cancer diagnosed –with a 99% survival rate. Genetic testing? Negative. (Insert a massive exhale here.) An MRI showed no abnormal involvement with right now, no spread to the lymph nodes. That is, hands down, the best-case scenario inside the worst-case situation. What does all this mean? It means—I’m going to LIVE. Again, caught early. That last part—caught early—is what I hold onto like a lifeline some days. It’s what...
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