Tonight in On loves.

I went out with my boyfriend and his friends tonight. We went to Bootie SF, which is a semi-raunchy dance club, and I had some sangria beforehand and a vodka cranberry and, later, a vodka orange. Boyfriend and I were dancing in one of the rooms - I don’t remember which one - and being annoyingly lovey and kissy. Between kisses, or maybe during, I thought, I’m just going to enjoy this moment and forget about everything else that’s going on, because it’s so good and he’s so sweet and because I’m here and I can.

On the ride to the apartment that has the sangria, but before the club, I come across an internet article and learn that, while stage 1 melanoma has a 95% 10-year-survival rate, the metastasis rate (where the cancer spreads to your other organs, and, basically, you’re a goner) is 15%. Nobody ever talks about that, though.

I start to cry in the Uber, but pull my shit together by the time I get to the apartment, and pour sangria down my throat, and talk, and then I dance, and I have fun, and then I head back, alone, to the house where I’m dog sitting and cry some more.

There is a test that can identify which stage I and II patients are most at-risk for metastases. The cost, from what I can tell, is $7000. I have a little money in savings, which I’ve earmarked for paying taxes. I have a car I could sell. I can nanny more. I think, as I wrap my arms around my boyfriend, and we sway with the music, and he nuzzles my cheek, that I would pay anything to stay in this moment for just a little while longer.

Thank you all for your very sweet notes. I’m sorry I haven’t replied to most/any of them yet. xo

Last updated July 30, 2017