Sleeplessness and Uncertainty

February 25, 2026

The running theme of this whole health nightmare is sleep, or lack thereof. I finally fell asleep after 1pm which means my meeting at 5pm is going to be exhausting because I’m already exhausted.

Our work team is smaller than it should be for the workload – and honestly, isn’t that the case everywhere – but we work well together and having anyone out of work, even for PTO, puts a strain on everyone. Our manager steps up and does the job when we’re short people. Their full time management job is supplemented as a regular member of our team doing the work alongside as an equal. Seems like this has been the case for my entire tenure.

I logged onto Teams and joined the meeting right on time. Turns out, they just wanted to know what was happening. Though there was not only a text message and an email from me outlining everything, they wanted to make sure that they understood the timing and dates. I had also told them, very unelegantly, of my diagnosis the week of the biopsy because I needed time off. It’s not like you’re asked what days/times are good in this situation. I was factually told, “You’re appointment is on X day at X time.”) Because I tried to be proactive and inform management ahead of time, my time off/FLMA request wasn’t a complete shock. Though, still running “lean” in company terms, means my time off puts more work on my colleagues. 

Remember a few days back when I said someone spilled the beans on Facebook? My manager just wanted to know how much I was comfortable sharing with the team. As you know, I’d posted my diagnosis, what I knew of it at the time, on Facebook because I’d been fielding separate texts, emails, and calls. I felt that it was important to remain consistent and inform my co-workers as much as strangers through the blog.

Our initial conversation was diagnosis – Stage 1A and Grade 2 –  downgraded from the initial Grade 3. I then explained what those terms meant. It really is a language of its own and not one that I want anyone to have to learn!

I also told them that I’d been writing about this meandering journey in a day-to-day format for catharsis for myself but also because I want to educate people and give them a resource when they may not know where to turn. When I was researching I found a lot of scientific papers that helped but not everyone wants the science behind it and they just want a real person, real time account of what to expect.

My colleagues are all women and since my goal is to help people navigate this unknown territory, they should be told what and why. I have a few current coworkers and more former coworkers as Facebook friends and everything was already laid out there, so telling my teammates wasn’t going to invade my privacy. If my story helps a colleague, or their family, then I made a difference and that’s all I want to do.

My manager and I had a nice talk, ironed out my days/time off and what I’m looking at in terms of treatment, pending results of the excisions and genetic testing. I copied my Facebook post and sent it to them to either attach or use it to inform the team. That is tomorrow’s problem. I worry that I will get far more “I’m sorry” and “OMG” than I will be able to handle emotionally. I am not any different.

My workday is pretty standard for the first couple hours. There are goals, or specific tasks that I need to accomplish during my shift, and I’ve arbitrarily given myself a deadline to complete each task and generally follow a process to complete them. So all was running smoothly until I got a message from my cousin – the mom of the 2nd cousin once removed – asking about my appointment. It wasn’t nosiness, but kindness, and we e-versated (if electronic mail is shortened to e-mail then an electronic conversation should be an e-versation) back and forth a few times. I’d given her my stage and grade and she said that her daughter’s initial results and treatment plan were similar. Until they weren’t.

I’m trying really hard to not use names so I apologize for being so convoluted with explanations. 

Evidentially, this vibrant young mom – she was always so vibrant and effervescent, even as a child – had similar conditions, stages, and grades but when they did the lumpectomy and biopsied the excised tumor it was worse than expected and required a lot more surgery and chosen reconstruction. I don’t think I was told to scare me, and I honestly didn’t think that I could be any more frightened than I was following the core needle biopsy, but hearing that it could be worse, even following the treatment plan, added so much more stress.

There is so much that is still unknown and that is the part that I can’t come to terms with.