one more lump.

In planning a big life change (quitting our jobs and traveling through Europe) there were hurdles we kept putting in front of ourselves. The jump seemed too scary and it was hard to believe that life would be kind enough to let us take this adventure. If Marcelline’s medical stuff ended up being high-needs, we wouldn’t go. If my mom’s cancer would have come back, we would stay stateside. If this… If that…

For a while, things were so hard and it didn’t feel like things would get easy enough to get to make a big decision. I was having anxiety about everything and ended up crying a lot to a friend of mine at work. I asked her, “Is this what life is like? People die and our parents get cancer and our kids get sick? This is it??”

She said, “Well, yes. People die. But that’s not all life is. There’s so much beauty and love in there, too. And so much more to come!”

I thanked her for constantly being there for me through this—through everything. She told me, “We take turns.” But—knowing that I had been skipping in line a LOT—I asked, “When is it your turn??” And we kind of chuckled. Me through tears. Her with empathy.

But then everything fell into place and we booked our tickets. We hadn’t booked all the tickets, but we had booked the big ones. We were doing it. It was happening.

In an effort to get all my big appointments booked before my medical insurance is astronomically expensive and less supportive, I went to get my annual last week at my OB-GYN. She asked if I had any specific concerns about anything and I told her, “Only my anxiety. I’m having situational anxiety around specific things. It’s been pretty high and I’ve had a few more anxiety attacks than I’d like. I know depression… that’s my jam… and I know how to mitigate that. But I feel like when I have anxiety, it’s so scary, because I don’t know it well and I don’t know how to fix it.”

We talked about upping my Zoloft. We talked about Xanax, but decided against it, since I’ve got a tricky relationship with addiction and alcohol and that’s how rich women accidentally overdose.

Then she did just my normal check-up. Then she found a lump in my left breast.

She told me she wanted to get it checked out… to get a mammogram. I tried hard to hold in the tears as she asked, “Are you feeling anxious?”

“Well, yeah. This is not great for my anxiety.”

She gave me the number of two imaging clinics to call and try to get a mammogram as soon as possible. I sat in my car, outside of the KEXP studios, making the calls. I ended up calling three different imaging clinics and all of them told me they were booked until July. I am not exaggerating when I tell you I bawled. I just lost it. It was like the nightmares of my past two years were teaming up to really take me down. My mother having breast cancer. My daughter having seizures, but not being able to get in to see a doctor for MONTHS. I was a mess. Through tears, I told one scheduler, “I’m supposed to leave the country in June, but if I have cancer, I probably won’t leave the country… so I need to get in before that.”

They all tried to understand, but they were booked solid. I didn’t know what to do. A woman named Catherine at First Hill Breast Imaging told me that she’d talk to her supervisor and call me back. I didn’t believe her. I cleaned myself up and went inside to do a Segue of the Week interview and told Hans that the allergies were really knocking me out.

A couple hours later, Catherine—that saint of a human—called back and said her supervisor got me in for a mammogram and an ultrasound (the booby kind) on May 22nd.

Okay. One more lump. One more obstacle to get over before we went fully-fledged into our adventure. And in the couple weeks that I had to wait for my mammogram, the lump became something of a telltale heart. It started to hurt, but only in the sore way that I think because I kept feeling it. I kept putting my hand there. The day after I bawled in my car, I had one of the most-fun Seattle nights. Life went on, me with my hand feeling that lump on my left breast. Evan and I celebrated a wedding. Mother’s Day. My birthday. We went on with life. We had little victories. We had the heartbreaks of life. We went on, trying not to think of this one last lump—quelling our anxieties by being there for each other.

The night before my appointment, I was trying to find some time to forget and to also turn inward. It’s a hard balance. I took a Lyft to Capitol Hill for the closing showing of SIFF. I texted a friend,

I’m in a Lyft going to watch a movie BY MYSELF and I can’t remember the last time I was so excited.

But when I got there, they told me I had the wrong type of pass to get in to this film. You’ve got to be kidding me. All I wanted was to sit in the dark and eat peanut M&Ms and have a glass of wine and cry at an indie film that’s not supposed to be sad to do a little projecting.

Instead, I found myself wandering around Capitol Hill. Buying myself a book at Elliot Bay Books and walking, trying to find a place to be. It felt like some of my last nights in Australia, actually. Walking around the bustling city when it was a little bit cooler than you thought it would be. I ran into a random acquaintance and pet her dog and asked her for a recommendation to read my new book. And that’s how I ended up at La Dive, laughing out loud whilst reading Quietly Hostile. It actually ended up being the perfect night. Evan and Marcie then met me at Warby Parker and we girls helped Ev pick out some new glasses before we had dinner at the delicious Tavolata. We laughed and cheersed and ate pasta. It was a small exhale, while I had been holding my breath.

Yesterday, I had my mammogram.

this is called “terrified chic.”

When you get a mammogram, it’s a lot of deep breaths and then holding it. To get the image, the tech says:

“Deep breath. Hold. …………………… Okay, breathe.

And you let yourself exhale deeply.

The doctor didn’t find anything of concern. The lump was probably tissue and fiber and ducts, just keeping me on my toes. As Michael Scott once said…

Deep exhale.

I was already at Swedish First Hill and knew that the work friend who helped me through so many things was spending a lot of time at Swedish First Hill these days. Her newborn twins are in the NICU. I texted her to see if she was around. She was.

She came through the doors to the waiting room and just started crying. We hugged for so long and then just sat and talked about everything. This was her turn. And in this moment of love and talking and laughing and looking at as many photos and videos of her babies as I could and talking a LOT about breastfeeding and the big scary things of life, I realized: Life is full of lumps.

There will always be something else. Hard times will come. Things will get in the way of what you envisioned. And there will always be a reason not to go. A scary reason it won’t work. People will keep dying and life will keep being shitty and your kid will absolutely keep getting sick. But when we take turns with each other, reminding each other that light is there and laughter will come again… when we remember there are babies to hold soon and seas to travel across… soon… there are new favorite places in the world to discover…there are new friends and new loves and new adventures out there. When we take turns with each other and help each other remember that there is love and light, it makes this lumpy life a little more beautiful and a lot more worth it.

There will always be “one more lump,” but I’m booking the last of all our travel for this adventure, regardless. I know the travels may not go exactly to plan, but that’s okay. We’re okay. Let’s do this.

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A Little Woo:

MARS IN LEO, Let the Lions Roar: Mars is the planet associated with how we go after what we want, how we initiate, and how we instinctively act. So now that planet is in the sign represented by a lion. It is time to be unabashedly you. It’ll be in Leo until July 10th. Stop apologizing for who you are and start embracing it.

During the upcoming weeks, our energy levels will be more consistent and stable. We are likely to experience a surge of vitality and a desire to share more of ourselves with the world. We will have chances to reconnect with our innate playfulness and practice freely expressing ourselves, freeing ourselves from self-consciousness and from the fear of others’ judgment.

Mars entering Leo marks the beginning of a phase of creative self-discovery, personal empowerment, and refinement of our leadership skills. Exploring our relationship with being seen, visibility, validation, and approval will be a central theme of Mars in Leo’s journey. This transit will offer us opportunities to heal our relationship with the spotlight, dare to be seen in our authenticity, and become our own source of approval and validation, rather than seeking these externally.

(Moon Omens has become my go-to on figuring out what’s going on in the planets, so almost all of this Little Woo is from this article… it goes so much deeper and is fantastic, if you’re into that kinda thing.)

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Quick Hits:

• Jam of the Week: Róisín Murphy - “The Universe.”

  (this is the chill Summer vibe I’m chasing. and I love a weird-ass lyric video.)
  

• Drawing Instead of Buying.
  (if I could create art of all the things I wanted, would I stop wanting so much?)
  

• I Can’t Stop Looking at This Painting.
  (I love you, Katherine Bradford. thank you for capturing the joy and love I have for swimming in your paintings.)
  

• I (Do) Like Movies.
  (I didn’t get to see that film during SIFF… only had a peasant’s pass… so now where can I see it??)
  

• Pre-Grieving with Rankings.

  (Succession is ENDING and I cannot handle it, but I can, because they’re all so horrible, but also I love them all so much. if you watch the Roys, but you’re not reading these weekly Power Rankings, you are missing OUT.)
  

• Can I Pull These Off as European Travel Shoes?

  (be honest.)
  

• Nine Inch Snails.

  (on this week’s episode of Segue of the Week, Evie and I judged together and Emily revealed she thought the band name was “Nine Inch Snails” and it’s now my favorite thing ever.)

I feel like things were hard last week… for a lot of us. For you? For me? Absolutely. You’re amazing. Truly. And I’m so happy you’re here. Thank you for being here for me and for this weird internet world. You’re making this life of lumps brighter and I’m grateful for that.

xxo,
Rachel.