So, I'm in a long-distance relationship

Me and Tim before he moved to SF earlier this year.

Three years ago, when I first started dating Tim, my biggest fear was that I'd fall for him and then he'd leave. Not long before we met, he had moved to Portland to be a supply chain analyst for a large tech company. Much like I was in my early 20s, he was uber-ambitious and willing to relocate just about anywhere if the job was right. Surprisingly, he stuck around for a while--or at least long enough to become an integral part of my day-to-day life. Imagine my chagrin when he came to me last April and told me he'd been offered the opportunity to move to San Francisco ($#&@!^#@#$).

He asked what I thought he should do. Take the job. Duh. It's a fantastic career move, I told him. Plus, he had no reason to stay here except for... er... me. My Portland roots, unlike his, are deep. I knew that pursuing this promotion would make him happy, so I chose to support it 100 percent.

He accepted the job, but then weeks turned into months and the move itself kept getting postponed. While I'm not one to complain, the planner in me kept wondering when he was actually going to leave.

If you're like me, you often take more pleasure or pain in the anticipation of an event than the event or situation itself. Not surisingly, I spent much of those nine months freaking out over a situation I had absolutely no control over, probably to the detriment of that time we did have left together living in the same place.

The two of us at a friend's wedding over the summer.

When he left in late January it was difficult but not unbearable. I spent 12+ hours helping him sort, fold clothes, and pack up his U-Haul. By the end, we were both a bit delusional, but it was nice to spend those last few hours together. It didn't feel like he was saying goodbye permanently because I knew I'd see him again in less than a month.

In all honesty, those first few weeks sucked. I felt discouraged and completely lost. I found myself googling "how to survive a long-distance relationship" the way I google things like "how long should I boil eggs?" and "how do I contour my cheekbones?" He was the one still living out of a suitcase, what right did I have to be worried about the current state of affairs?

Clearly, it's only March, and I'm sure I've only scratched the surface of how to truly survive a long-distance relationship. I've had more emotional ups and downs in the past eight weeks than I did my junior year of high school, but I'm hopeful and open-minded. Tim will be visiting me once a month, and after I get back from Australia, I plan to do the same. I'm learning how to be patient, how to be more forthcoming about my feelings, and to not take everything so darn seriously.

Oh, the places you'll go

Last week, I was sitting in my office, reading through a proposal for a grant, when I looked up at my calendar and realized it's been exactly five years since I was diagnosed with melanoma. How funny it is to think back five years. In some ways, I feel like I'm the same person, but in so many other ways, I feel like I'm not.

I watched a TED Talk over Christmas break called, "The psychology of your future self." The premise of the talk is that--because we can't imagine where we'll be in the future--we underestimate how much we'll change five, ten, or twenty years down the road.



Here's a snippet:

At every age, from 18 to 68... people vastly underestimated how much change they would experience over the next 10 years... Why does this happen? We're not entirely sure, but it probably has to do with the ease of remembering versus the difficulty of imagining. Most of us can remember who we were 10 years ago, but we find it hard to imagine who we're going to be, and then we mistakenly think that because it's hard to imagine, it's not likely to happen. Sorry, when people say "I can't imagine that," they're usually talking about their own lack of imagination, and not about the unlikelihood of the event that they're describing.

The bottom line is, time is a powerful force. It transforms our preferences. It reshapes our values. It alters our personalities. We seem to appreciate this fact, but only in retrospect. Only when we look backwards do we realize how much change happens in a decade. It's as if, for most of us, the present is a magic time. It's a watershed on the timeline. It's the moment at which we finally become ourselves. Human beings are works in progress that mistakenly think they're finished. The person you are right now is as transient, as fleeting and as temporary as all the people you've ever been. The one constant in our life is change.

This year, instead of coming up with a traditional New Years Resolution (or in my case, usually about 15), I decided to set one goal: Travel to Australia to visit my good friend from college.

Sounds simple enough, right? Then why have I been putting it off for the past year and a half? Perhaps the thought of spending a whole paycheck on a flight is scary and it's inconceivable for a work-a-holic like me to take 12 days of PTO in one fell swoop. But I'm doing it! I booked my flight over the weekend, and now I have a little less than three months to plan my trip to the other side of the world. I'm giddy with excitement, and yes, a little scared, but I hope that by continuing to push myself a little outside my comfort zone, I'll become an even better version of myself in 2020, 2025, 2030, and beyond.

Be thankful, be happy

Image: Julep Instagram.

Some research suggests that the key to happiness is gratitude, so I'm making a point to try to recognize the people and things I am thankful for--not only on Thanksgiving, but year round. Here are a few of the things in my life I'm grateful for right now:

• Living so close to my mom.
• My job.
• Dark chocolate.
• My iPhone 6.
• Friends who are having babies!
• Weekends with absolutely nothing on the agenda.
• Exploring new restaurants with Tim.
• Cabo 2014.
• Oprah chai tea lattes from Starbucks.
• My first wine club shipment.
• My health.
• New episodes of Homeland.
• Having a network of friends and family who are supportive of my personal and professional goals.
• Birchbox. Because is still makes me smile every month.
• Puppies.
• My Invisalign treatment is almost done!
• The never-ending source of entertainment that is my Kindle.

Wishing you a wonderful Thanksgiving with all of your favorite things.

#TBT: Super blonde

Long blonde hair freshman year of college in 2004.

Blame it on Pinterest, but lately I've had a mysterious urge to highlight my hair. To give a little context, I first started coloring my hair when I was 14. I brought pictures of platinum blonde celebs with me to the hair dresser, and predictably cried when I left the salon looking anything less than a John Freida model.

In my teens, it was never just about being blonde. It was about being blonde-and-tan. One was not sufficient without the other. There was no such thing as being too blonde or too tan. It wasn't until my senior year in college that I got fed up with the split ends and meandered back to the dark side. Shortly thereafter, I cut back on and soon quit tanning altogether, embracing a new, more natural look.

Me and a friend in NYC in 2007.

Fast forward six years: my hair has grown about a foot, and I haven't gotten close to a foil or box of hair dye in several years. For no reason in particular, I find myself daydreaming about subtle caramel highlights or a touch of ombre. Until now, I would have blown off the urges and stuck with my usual routine, but sometimes its nice to make a change.

You may have noticed that I've been a "bad blogger" lately. The reason for this is twofold: (1) the trackpad on my MacBook has been broken and driving me crazy, and (2) last month, I started a new job! After nearly five years working in grant development and communications, I've shifted into an entirely new role doing community relations for the OHSU Knight Cancer Institute. It's been incredibly exciting for me to try something new, as well as to get paid to do the type of work I've spent so much time doing as a volunteer for the past few years.

With the little broski at my college graduation in 2008.

As I've made this move, it's been the perfect time for me to step back and evaluate my continued involvement in extracurricular activities like planning the Portland Melanoma Walk and even writing this blog. These activities have been immensely therapeutic for me, but as life goes on, I've felt less and less compelled to spend all my free time working on these projects. It's gotten to the point where every time I plan a melanoma-related meeting or event, it feels like a nagging reminder of something I've worked so hard to overcome. When I feel this way, I have to remind myself, this is a good thing. It's not quitting. It's coping. It's finding a way to make the best of a bad situation and then passing the torch to others who need that outlet. My job will continue to keep me connected to some great cancer prevention and early detection initiatives, but I'm definitely ready to step out of the spotlight and let the focus be on others.

Last weekend up at Mt. Hood. Hair au natural.

You can see why I'm tempted to switch up my look. I know I haven't escaped melanoma for good. Just last week I had a minor surgery on my left shin to remove an abnormal mole, but overall, I feel like I'm in a really great place right now, and I'm excited to see where life takes me next.

xo Katie

P.S. Will share pics if and when I do highlight my hair.

The 5 stages of event planning

Whether its a giant fundraising gala, a business conference, or a wedding in your parent's backyard, event planning can be incredibly stressful. Last month, I was involved in planning three big events, and let me tell you: I'm exhausted.

If you've done any event planning yourself, you know it isn't all about the big day. There are months and months of preparation that go into planning that one three-hour meeting or that one two-day trip. I've discovered that I experience several stages of emotion during the months leading up to and following a big event. In fact, they share some similarities with the five stages of grief described by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross. (I'm kidding! Kind of...)

1. Denial

Commonly characterized by: "My event is still nine months away. I don't need to start planning for it yet." Or, it's still two months before the big event and you still haven't sent in the required site permits. You'd rather drain your phone's battery on Pinterest than figure out which vendor to work with. Sometimes, the list of to-do's is so long that you don't know where to start. But it's OK. You've still got time.

2. Anger

Your event planning committee is driving you nuts. Your volunteers are driving you nuts. Your boss is driving you nuts. Your boyfriend is driving you nuts. The person who messed up the floral arrangements is driving you nuts. Basically, everyone including your dog is driving you nuts!!!

3. Bargaining

You find yourself asking everyone and their second cousin for a favor. "If you buy a ticket to my event I'll buy you a drink!" "If you sign up to volunteer I'll be forever in your debt!" "If you print 100 color copies I'll take you out for coffee!" "If you help me make these centerpieces I'll sell you my soul for half price!"

4. Depression

A few days after the event, it hits you like a brick: Now that your event is over, there is no meaning in life. What is the point of breathing if you don't need to micromanage a team of 12 volunteers anymore? You're totally burnt out from working a 16-hour shift on Saturday. Oh, and you'd rather not have to think about all those thank you notes you still need to write.

5. Acceptance

Now that it's been a month or two since your event, the whole event planning process doesn't seem so bad. Looking back at the photos, you give yourself a little pat on the back. Maybe you won't mind doing the whole thing over again next year...

Fellow event planners: Can you relate?

Life goal #578: Learn how to line dance

A couple of weeks ago, we celebrated my friend Jessica's birthday by going to a bar where they do line dancing. We got all dolled up in our cowboy boots and headed out for a night on the... errr... country. I don't know what I was expecting, but it was definitely not a dance floor FULL of people who all appeared to know exactly what they were doing. My little city girl jaw was on the floor. I felt like I was in a movie where all of a sudden the whole cast busts out in a choreographed dance routine.

Not one to be a wallflower, by the end of the night, I was determined to learn how to line dance. Two weeks later, I am nowhere near closer to crossing this item off my bucket list, but the bar we went to offers lessons, so I'm excited to go back at some point to give it a try.

The moral of this blog post? It's easy for me to get stuck in the "same ole same ole" routine. Same restaurants, same stores, even the same route to and from work. Routine isn't bad--it helps keep life on track. But I don't ever want to forget how much I love trying new things, even if I fail, and even if it's something as simple as learning the two-step.

Now that 2013 is over, can I take a nap?

When I was a kid, I spent every New Year's Eve reading through old diary entries. Now that I'm a grown up, I have a blog to scroll through when I'm feeling nostalgic. Without even having to look through a year of entries, I can tell you that 2013 has been one of the busiest, most exciting years of my life. Stressful at times, but for the most part, quite rewarding. Here's a brief look back at the past year.

In Spring 2013, I testified for the Oregon State House of Representatives and Senate in support of a bill to ban minors under age 18 from using indoor tanning beds.

Testifying for the Oregon State House Health Care Committee.

Ultimately, the bill passed, and I was invited to the signing ceremony with Oregon Gov. John Kitzhaber. The new law goes into effect in January 2014, so I'll be following closely to see how tanning salons handle compliance with the new restrictions.

Oregon teen tanning ban bill signing ceremony.

Meanwhile, I was also pretty busy planning the 2nd Annual Portland Melanoma Walk, which took place in May 2013. The event raised nearly $40,000, which was more than double our original goal!

Portland Melanoma Walk 2013.

More Portland Melanoma Walk.

Throughout the year, I got to travel to some pretty exciting places, including New Orleans, the Dominican Republic, Washington DC, Boston, and Sonoma Valley.

New Orleans in Spring 2013.

My best friend's bachelorette party in Sonoma.

Jessica's wedding week in Punta Cana.

Chelsea's bachelorette at the Oregon Coast.

Wine tasting with Tim and his family in Napa.

Several very important people in my life got married in 2013, including my friends Jessica, Chelsea, and Liz, my cousin Jameson, and my brother Andrew.

The bride and her MOH.

 

My brother's wedding in August 2013.

Me and Tim at Chelsea's wedding.

And let's not forget: I survived a three-mile run while being pelted with paint.

Me and Debbie at the Color Run in Fall 2013.

Earlier this month, as 2013 began to wind down, I started wondering whether it would be possible to "outdo" myself in 2014. How could I possibly schedule more than 10 trips or beat my fundraising goal again? While there are never any guarantees, I have a feeling that 2014 has some pretty exciting things in store for me. My philosophy on life these days can be summed up by a short quote from Louis Pasteur: "Chance favors the prepared mind." After years of preparation, I'm definitely ready to make my mark on the world.

With that, I wish you all a happy, healthy, and safe New Year. 

Cheers,
Katie

Quarter-life crisis, pt. 2

 "You are your own worst enemy. If you can learn to stop expecting impossible perfection, from yourself and others, you may find the happiness that has always eluded you." -Lisa Kleypas

"Guilt: the gift that keeps on giving." -Emma Bombeck

In 2008, I faced a textbook case of quarter-life crisis-itis. My dream of becoming a writer in NYC was shattered after I spent three months interning in the publishing industry and didn't love it. Was it glamorous? Sort of. Was it meaningful? Not in the way I had hoped.

Ultimately, I decided to move back to my hometown of Portland, Oregon (free rent!) and "temped" with a variety of companies until I figured out what I wanted to do with my life. I spent time at a finance company, a small creative agency, and a nonprofit before ending up at my current employer--OHSU--in January 2010. What I appreciate about my job is that I've had the potential for growth, and my boss has been incredibly supportive of my extracurricular activities--from planning countless fundraising events to traveling to DC to review grants like I did earlier this week.

If you're a regular reader, you may have noticed that I've been a bit quieter than usual over the past few months. I've been super busy reviewing grants, planning bachelorette parties, and taking online classes, but I've also been doing some serious self reflection. I've been calling it quarter-life crisis: part two.

Last spring, I accomplished more in the realm of melanoma education and advocacy than I had ever hoped--I helped raise $40,000 for melanoma research and got to meet our governor who thanked me for sharing my story about melanoma and tanning beds.

When I started this blog, I admit, I had some selfish motivations: I still felt like I was the one who gave myself cancer and that I didn't deserve to be as "lucky" as I have been. Every time I log onto Facebook, I see posts from friends who are dealing with brain metastasis or who have lost a loved one to melanoma. It kills me to see this, especially when I'm still hearing so many people brush off skin cancer like it's no big deal. My motivation for blogging, for planning the Portland Melanoma Walk, and for sharing my story on as many public forums as possible, has been driven largely in part by good old-fashioned guilt. And, I'm actually very pleased to report, that at some point over the past six months or so, that guilt has finally lifted. Somehow, by serving this sort of self-imposed penance, I have come to terms with what happened to me, and I don't blame myself any more.

What does that mean? It's taken months for me to put this into words, and I'm still a little unsure. As I mentioned, I've been doing a lot of reflection on what my next steps should be in life. While I've wanted to go back to school to pursue a master's degree for a while, up until recently, I felt like there was something holding me back. I'm still not 100% certain what direction I want my life to take, but it may or may not involve a bit of a break from melanoma advocacy. Rest assured, I'm still organizing the Portland Melanoma Walk this spring (May 31, 2014 - save the date!), and I plan to continue blogging, but I don't want melanoma to get in the way of my life any more than it already has.

Thank you to all of you who have been so supportive of me throughout this journey. Several of you I've had a chance to meet with in person, but for those of you I only know "virtually," your kind words and support still mean more to me than you know.

Let's play dress up

On our way to 80s night.

I've decided that I kind of love being 27. I love that I'm old enough to have my own place, to have a steady income, and to feel like a responsible "grown up" half of the time, but that I'm not too old to get dressed up and make a fool of myself every once in a while. (Like wearing a floral leotard to an 80s dance cruise on Saturday. Which, by the way, I found a HUGE rack of at Forever 21. Please tell me these aren't making a comeback.) Most people still mistake me for a 23-year-old, but I'm starting to be OK with that, too. I credit genetics (thanks, mom) and my daily SPF.

Desperately in need of a shower after the Color Run.

I also recently did one of those 5k color runs, where they douse you with paint as you run through the course. It was the first organized run I've done all year, which is PITIFUL, but it's so easy to let running go by the wayside when I'm busy with other things. My goal is to continue running into the winter. This is always a huge challenge for me because it becomes nearly impossible to run outside once when it gets dark by the time I'm off work. It also rains a lot in Portland, and even the gym is about a half mile walk from my apartment. Excuses-- I know. If you have any advice on how to stay motivated during cold and rainy months, please send it my way.

Birthday weekend recap

Birthday weekend kicked off a day early this year. Tim surprised me by sending flowers to my office last Wednesday. I took a half day at work on Thursday and he didn't want them to miss me, so he sent them a day early. I was totally surprised. Boys: there's nothing that will put a smile on a girl's face like sending her a bouquet of roses. On my actual birthday, I left work early and treated myself to a facial and massage (if you live in the Portland area, the ladies at Zara Clinic are beyond amazing). From there, I stopped by my parent's house to pick up a few more b-day goodies, and then Tim took me to dinner at a nice steak house downtown. With all the weddings and events going on this summer, I opted to keep things relatively low key this year, but I felt very loved and spoiled, which is all a girl can ask for, right?

Debbie, me, and my mom at dinner.

On Friday, I met up with my girlfriends and we did a three-course "fondue experience" dinner. I eat cheese fondue all the time, but I've never done one of those entrees where they give you raw meat and you cook it on your table. It was a riot. I'm surprised none of us got food poisoning from eating undercooked chicken.

Caramel, chocolate, and cheesecake-flavored fondue.

Aside from submitting a comment to the FDA last week in support of reclassifying tanning beds, I've been relatively inactive in the melanoma/skin cancer arena lately. At points last spring, it became all consuming--testifying down in Salem and planning the Portland Melanoma Walk. As with anything, I think we all just sometimes need a break from things. I just need to allow myself to fully relax and not carry the burden of needing to be doing something all the time. Something to work on for "27" perhaps?

New Orleans in a nutshell

This lucky lady got to travel to New Orleans for a work conference last week. I'd never been to New Orleans before--or anywhere south of Ocean City, Maryland--so I stayed an extra day to play tourist. Such a fun place to visit. Here are a few snapshots from my trip.

Me being a tourist on Bourbon Street. Surprise, surprise.

St. Louis Cathedral.

River cruise. You better believe I was rocking my SPF.

Street music everywhere. Loved it.

Beignets!

This is an awful picture, so you can barely see anything, but before I left, I told my friends: "I hope I find my vampire boyfriend in New Orleans." On my first night out, we stumbled across a taping of The Vampire Diaries. Coincidence? I think not.

Trying to stalk my would-be boyfriend Ian Somerhalder.

Have you been to New Orleans before? If so, what was your favorite thing to do or see?

Thanks and no thanks

National Health Blog Post Month Day 22: Give thanks

Sick of Thanksgiving posts yet? If so, too bad. The #NHBPM prompt made me do it! :) I hope you all had a great day today. I got to spend time with family and eat excessively, which is always fun. Except when you're so full you can barely breathe...

Before the day is through, I'd like to take a moment to say "thank you" to my fellow bloggers who have been nothing but welcoming and encouraging since I started this blog last spring. I look to you for inspiration every day, and I'm so grateful that we've gotten to know each other. This includes (but is definitely not limited to): Chelsea, Rev. Carol Taylor, Al, Rose, and Rich. I've also made a few new connections recently, and I look forward to getting to know those folks as well.

What I am not thankful for
I enjoy a good deal just as much, if not more, than the next person. But for some reason, Black Friday is driving me mad this year! Everywhere I go, everywhere I look, I'm surrounded by ads for 50% off this, 30% of that, buy one get one free, etc. etc. What bothers me is that I've started noticing these ads impacting my mood. For example: I might think to myself, "If only I had those Frye boots, I would be happier." Or, "If only I had that bracelet, my life would be easier." It's nonsensical, but I keep noticing this thought pattern repeating itself in my head.

It's strikingly similar to how I used to feel when I used tanning beds. With that, my logic would be something like: "If only I was tan and skinny, then maybe I'd be happy." It freaks me out a little when I notice these negative thought patterns in my head. I love the holidays, and I realize there's nothing wrong with treating myself to a new pair of boots or a pair of earrings every once in a while, but I shouldn't need to rely on material things or the way I look to be happy. I hope that this is a passing phase--one that will fade away as we head into the new year. I'd be curious to hear if any of you start having similar feelings around the holidays, and if so, how do you cope with them?

***

This post was inspired by the Day 22 prompt for National Health Blog Post Month.
View posts by other participants.

Things I don't like talking about

National Health Blog Post Month Day 19: Write about life and death

Image: French by Design

Let me preface this by saying: when it comes to melanoma, I was lucky. Very, very lucky. It's one of the first things my dermatologist told me when I found out my mole was malignant.

Others are not so lucky. One of the things that makes melanoma so dangerous is how quickly it can spread. This year, it's expected to kill almost 10,000 people.

When you're 23 years old, being told that you have a disease that could theoretically kill you is, well, scary. Like life-alteringly scary. I don't know about you, but I've always been jealous of people who are (or at least claim to be) "at peace" with the fact that we're all going to die someday. Thinking about death makes life seem both incredibly important and yet trivial. I feel pressure to check off every item on my bucket list, but at the same time, I wonder what's the point? As a result, I'm terrified of death.

I think one of the reasons why I fell in love with writing is because it lets you be immortal. When you put your pen down on the paper and share your most intimate thoughts with the page, your mind can outlive your body. That's why I love reading, too. I can glean insights on how to live from any number of other writers--living or deceased.

This prompt has been by far the most difficult one to write about so far this month. Even though our mortality is one of the only things all of us as humans have in common, it still feels so deeply personal. I suppose I still have a lot to figure out about life and death, but I feel lucky that I have time to try.

***

This post was inspired by the Day 19 prompt for National Health Blog Post Month.
View posts by other participants.

Melanoma claims another young life

I'll be completely honest with you: I've had a crappy week. Sometimes I wonder why, in addition to work, family, and friendships, I keep trying to change the world. Why do I always take on so many extracurricular projects? Why do I read until I can't keep my eyes open at night? Why do I take vacation days so that I can go work a volunteer event? Why do I spent hours researching and writing about something that happened to me three years ago? Why can't I get over it already? The result is inevitable--sometimes I get burnt out. I feel like giving up.

And then I hear that the young woman who we all fell in love with on last month's Stand Up to Cancer Telethon, Hillary Kind, passed away this week. I never met Hillary, but I couldn't help feeling emotional when I learned about her death. When I hear about young women like Hillary or Glenna, it scares me. These women are my age. Hillary was just three months younger than me. She looked radiant just weeks ago. How could something like this happen to her?

I wish I could just give up and start blogging about food or fashion. That I could leave work at night and just zone out--not have to worry about anything except laundry. But I know I can't. As long as there are woman like Hillary who are taken away from us before they can cross off all the items on their bucket lists, I'm going to keep evangelizing the importance of skin cancer prevention and early detection.

I want minors banned from tanning salons. I want to go to a professional sporting event where the cheerleaders aren't all orange. I want little girls growing up loving their natural skin tone and hair color. And I want to see a decrease in the number of young adults being diagnosed with incurable diseases. I like to think that Hillary would, too.

3-year-old me and loving the skin you were born in

May is Melanoma Awareness Month. Please help spread the word by sharing this post with your friends and family. 

Little me, happily oblivious of skin cancer.

Last week, AIM at Melanoma shared this fantastic new American Academy of Dermatology PSA on their twitter feed (kudos to whoever manages that by the way--you always write me back!) Much as I love bashing on tanning beds, I love this PSA because it digs a little deeper than that. It makes you think: at what point did I look at my natural skin color and start to think, "This is unacceptable. You are ugly"? Was it when kids on my basketball team started giving me a hard time for baring my pasty white legs in a pair of shorts, when I went to the Clinique counter for the first time and realized even alabaster made my face look dirty, or when I flipped through a Delia's catalog and realized none of the models looked like me?

Yes, it was the tanning beds fault that I got skin cancer. Yes, it was my fault that I went to the tanning beds. But whose fault is it that I felt like I needed to start tanning in the first place? Why wasn't my natural skin color good enough for me? Studies have shown that people are more attracted to others who have tan skin than those who don't. Just a few generations ago, however, folks felt the opposite. I hate to think that if I have a daughter she will be faced with the same pressures I have been: bleach this, tan that, buy this, don't buy that. Does it ever end? As a species, we can be pretty self destructive.

Although melanoma is depressing, and my rants about tanning are, too, I purposefully created this blog to celebrate pale being pretty. As a professional writer and a perfectionist, I agonized for days over how I should "label" my writings. "You're writing about tanning," my friends said, "The name of your blog should have something to do with tanning." But I held firm. This blog was to be more than just about tanning. It's about me learning how to embrace the skin I was born in, and to share that journey with others. I think that's why this PSA in particular resonated with me so clearly. On that note, please check out this lovely short video, and make sure you share it with all your friends!

Being diagnosed with cancer on my third day of work

There's never a "good time" to find out you have cancer. There are, however, times that are slightly less convenient than others--like finding out the third day into a new job.

This week, we had a new employee start in my office. In between trainings, he mentioned how nervous he was on the first day. Boy, can I relate. I was a nervous wreck when I started working at my company. A 2008 college grad, I had one hell of a time finding a permanent, full-time job (thank you, economy). Until January 2010, I filled my time with low-paying temp jobs and zero-paying internships. Landing my first "real job" with dental and retirement seemed almost too good to be true. It felt like at any moment I was going to wake up and snap back to the reality of watching Law & Order reruns on my parents couch at two in the afternoon.

Three days into my new job, I got the news: a small mole I'd had biopsied turned out to be a malignant melanoma. As my doctor talked about things like cancer margins, all I can remember is thinking: can’t melanoma kill you?

Looking back, it still blows my mind how calm I was immediately following my diagnosis and in the days leading up to my surgery. The day I got the bad news, my boss suggested I take the day off. Spend some time alone to clear my head. I opted to stay at work, to work through the worry. Even though things appeared normal on the outside, and I carried on like nothing had happened, I stopped eating. The only thing I could get myself to swallow were the bottled fruit smoothies in the downstairs cafeteria and the occasional Pepto Bismol or Tums. Within a week, I lost seven pounds. 

Because I've been training a new employee this week, I took the time to look back and remember how I was trained a little over two years ago. On the third page of notes, in between instructions on how to update our internal database, it still says in my handwriting:

Dr. ------- surgery

                        shallow
                        excise
                        Mandy, referral

It gives me chills every time I see it. I don't think I'll ever be able to start a new job without remembering what it felt like to learn I had melanoma on my third day at work.