OK-Masons

There really isn’t a gift guide for what to get your sister when she gets cancer. Maybe there should be.

I wanted to get you something meaningful, but also something that might be useful to you in this journey.

My hope is that you use this journal to record all of the good things that happen to you — anything funny, anything kind, anything that makes you smile.

There will be enough worry, anger, and sadness without you writing those things down, so use this journal as a place to keep the rest. These are the things you want to look back on.

I love you, and I’ll be with you every step of the way.

Last week we got the devastating news that my youngest sister has breast cancer. It was caught early and her prognosis was excellent. Surgery, radiation and then done. Stage 1. Baby cancer. Annoying cancer.

Today we learned that it was stage 3. Not nearly as easy as 1, 2, 3. Not even close. Her tumor is 10 cm – the size of a bagel. How is that even possible? Of course she found the lump. It’s enormous.

Devastating isn’t the right word. We were devastated when my dad told us he had lung cancer and would die within months. This diagnosis is different – it’s not a death sentence. It’s not devastating. But it is. In a different way.

My sister is 39. Too young to even get mammograms on a regular basis. (Thank God she found the lump herself.). She’s incredibly healthy. She doesn’t even have enough body fat to get her breast reconstructed, should she want to. She watches what she eats and how much screen time her kids get and doesn’t drink soda. It’s incredibly unfair that this is happening to her.

My nieces are 10 and 7. So little. Too little to understand that my sister’s chances of a 5 year survival are 73%. Too little to understand that hair loss is the least of our worries. Too young to have to contemplate losing their mother for even a minute. Going back to school (fucking COVID) is probably out of the question for them now. But who knows. Maybe the risk is worth a little bit of normal for them right now.

I’d love to feel like a fighter right now. I hope she does. I feel humbled and exhausted and so, so sad. I want to be tough and help support her, but I’m so afraid.

One week in and we are loving Tulsa! We’ve been to Target 96 times, and Lowe’s and Home Depot each stop least 12. And we’ve eaten at least a dozen tacos each. Seriously, though, we are really happy to be here. It’s fun being in a new house and exploring a new city, even though we haven’t done much except unpack and run errands. The movers wrapped everything in at least six sheets of paper. We even found a lime they wrapped up and packed! There’s paper and boxes everywhere. Two people have come to take some, but there’s just so much.

I went to the office twice and had a couple of calls, but it doesn’t feel like I’m working yet. It’s nice to be having work conversations, though; it’s been a while since I’ve spoken this language and I missed it. We will be working from home for at least a couple more weeks, and then we’ll only be in the office 2 days a week. It’s a perfect situation for starting a new job at a new company. I’m lucky to be able to start slowly.

This is our last night in Rhode Island. I’ve lived here since before we met, and Joe has since he moved in with me in December, 2009. This has been our home the entire time we’ve been married. We’ve been really happy here.

I’m trying hard not to be sad. Really hard.

Our best friends are here with us. And this is a night like so many others. But it is also very different. I’m trying hard not to be sad. Really hard.

This is a new beginning. Not an ending. And we’ll be back. Often. Very often. But we’ll miss so much.

There are exciting things ahead for us. We are going to get to explore a part of the country we are unfamiliar with. We have a great house and I have a great job. We have been looking forward to this move for months.

It’s just so hard to say goodbye.

Now comes the sadness and trepidation. We’ve been so excited and looking forward to this move for SO long. But now that it’s time to go, I’m starting to feel sad.

I’m sure I’ll be fine once we go. It’s the “lasts” that are killing me – the last time we see our best friends, the last dinner with my sisters, the last trip to our favorite Target.

I have to keep telling myself that I’ll be as sad as I let myself be. If I view these events as sad occasions, then of course I’m going to be sad. If I look at them as celebrations, they’re more fun.

I hate goodbyes and much prefer an Irish goodbye – we’ll just leave without saying anything. We’ll pretend we’re just going away for the weekend and that we’ll be back soon. Because we will be. Our time in Tulsa will go by quickly. And we’ll be back all the time. And friends will come visit. All the time. Please. Please visit all the time. I miss you so much already.

My already anxious mind has been in anxiety-overdrive trying to figure out how to get the cats and dogs to Tulsa. We’ve gone back and forth on the pros and cons of flying and driving with both dogs and cats, flying with cats and then flying with dogs, flying with cats and driving with dogs. So many endless combinations of stress!

We still don’t know how we are getting the dogs to Tulsa, but the cats are under the seat in front of me as I type. Other than Graycie immediately peeing in the car (the car I’ve had for only 2 weeks!), everything has gone smoothly. Even going through security was fine, once we got in the room you go to when you need a “private” security screen. My biggest fear was taking the cats out of their carriers at security and then losing them forever when I couldn’t hold on to them. How long will they hold our flight while I look for my cat?

I’m trying hard to live with the ambiguity of “shelter in place” life. We all are. There are just so many unknowns right now that it’s hard to plan a cross country move.

I made Joe sit down and walk through some logistics with me. (Weirdly, he’s focused on how we’re going to get a fridge at our new house, which is not even in the top 20 of my list of things to worry about. Probably not even top 50.) We think this is how things will go:

1. We get an offer on our house and all goes smoothly through inspections.

2. We have packers and movers get our stuff. Cars get picked up to be shipped.

3. I buy an SUV.

4. We move the dogs to Joe’s parents’ house and we fly to Tulsa with the cats.

5. We leave the cats at our new house and buy a fridge. Meet the movers to get our stuff unpacked.

6. We fly home, pick up the dogs and drive to Tulsa.

7. Start work.

WHAT COULD GO WRONG?

So much has happened since my last post a mere 12 days ago. So. Freaking. Much!

First, we found two more houses that we made offers on. The first was the house Joe really wanted, but I was meh about. That seller countered our offer with a full price offer, which was more than we wanted to spend. So, we changed course a bit and made an offer on a big but inexpensive house in the outskirts of Tulsa. Offer accepted! We are now in the process of going through inspections and final negotiations. We let the first house go – we loved it, but we wanted something cheaper.

But now what happens? In two short weeks the world has changed. The timing of every single thing we had planned to do in the next three months is now on hold. I’ve spent more time worrying about our dwindling supply of toilet paper (down to 6 rolls), than I have about buying a house, starting a new job, and moving. Our normal has changed in such a short time it doesn’t seem real. And so much remains unknown.

Let the buyer’s remorse begin!

We found a house that checked all of our boxes. Except for price – it’s at the very top of our range. But it’s the only house we agreed on. But we are not only over paying, but spending more each month than we wanted to. But it’s a good investment- right downtown, in a neighborhood that’s the hottest in town.

The very worst thing our (wonderful) agent could have done is tell us that we have two weeks to change our mind with no penalty. Two weeks of agonizing over a decision I’ve agonized about all weekend. I already can’t stand thinking about it.

I would back out now except there’s not another house we can agree on. No other house that we saw – and we saw 50! – made us want to make an offer. We just thought the offer would be lower.

We visited 50 houses this weekend. Fifty freaking houses. And we finally found one we both liked enough to make an offer on.

The house we made an offer on has been on the market for over 211 days, but just last week the seller declined an offer $10k under asking price. There go our plans of making a low-ball offer!

We offered $5k less than asking. In reality, I would have paid $5k more than asking, but my weak negotiating skills drive Joe crazy. The offer we made expires in 86 minutes. Stay tuned!