It’s so common for people living in the bay area to head up to Tahoe for a quick getaway — something I never realized I took so much for granted.

Now, sitting in front of this gigantic beautiful lake, I realize how fragile that normalcy really is.

I clearly remember the appointment. It was a raining day at the end of the Jan… The oncology clinic was tucked away, separated from the rest of the hospital — private, quiet, even a little cozy.

Me — someone who barely gets sick — boom! Jackpot: AML. Acute Myeloid leukemia, in case you don’t know.

Yet I wasn’t shocked, I wasn’t even that sad, I was hmmm, calm… maybe numb.

While I kept going through my daily routine — work, meetings, parenting, as if nothing had happened, my brain quickly kicked into an organizer mood. I started wrapping up work, creating handovers, planning training and scheduling transition; I also listed all the kids activities hour by hour on a spreadsheet and color coded — What conflicted, what needed help, Which friend might be able to pitch in?

No one, including myself, could quite understand how I could stay this calm. Maybe it’s just part of me never got to show — when shit hits the fan, emotions don’t help but solutions do.

How come?! I am a Pisces after all!!

A couple of other things , in case anyone is curious, that might have helped:

1. I don’t google my illness. I am not a doctor and I can’t identify what is relevant or not. So I stick to what my doctor tells me but I am never shy to ask questions to make sure I could connect the dots. I never bothered to think or ask about the questions that might beat me down.
2. I kept it very private. Only a small circle knew. I didn’t want to scare people, and I definitely didn’t want to with waves of sympathy.

So that is how it started. I am glad I finally writing it down, five months later.

I hope it doesn’t feel heavy to you — because weirdly but truly, it never weighed me down.

I just want to capture my real thoughts and experiences. Maybe you’ll find it interesting. Maybe even helpful.

Me, the AML edition!

P.S. Couple of weeks after I was diagnosed, I was admitted to inpatient and stayed for 69 days. Stories about room 40 began…