Author: Lara Huffman

I Trust Dr. Pepper More than Dr. Oz

Dr. Mehmet Oz, charlatan extraordinaire, was sworn in as Trump’s administrator for the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services (CMS) on April 18, 2025. As a stage 4 cancer patient who may need the services of Medicare and/or Medicaid sooner than later, I am both scared and angry that this quack has been appointed to one of the most extremely positions in the country. I am 100 percent certain that Dr. Oz is going to do irreparable harm to those who rely on Medicaid and Medicare.

First of all, what does CMS do? According to the Federal Register,

The Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services (CMS) was created to administer oversight of the Medicare Program and the federal portion of the Medicaid Program. It also ensures that program beneficiaries are aware of the services for which they are eligible and that those services are accessible and of high quality and develops health and safety standards for providers of health care services authorized by Medicare and Medicaid legislation. CMS is also responsible for administering the State Children’s Health Insurance Program (SCHIP), the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act (HIPAA), and several other health-related programs.

It is not an exaggeration to say that this is a very important role in the country, and now it’s being led by … Dr. Freaking Oz. These are the enrollment numbers for Medicaid and CHIP as of November 2024:

During his confirmation hearing, Dr. Oz would not say yes or no if he opposed cuts to Medicaid, according to a March 14, 2025 article in The New Republic.

If you are reading this and wondering why do I care or thinking I just hate him because he is a Trump ally, then let me provide you my reasoning why.

A June 17, 20214 NBC News article stated that Dr. Oz “got a harsh scolding from several senators on Tuesday at a hearing about bogus diet product ads. According to the article, Dr. Oz “admitted he uses ‘flowery’ language on his shows and said he realizes that the moment he recommends a product, the scammers use his words to sell spurious products.” In April 2012, Dr. Oz had touted a green coffee bean extract as a “miracle fat burning pill that works for everyone.”

According to an April 15, 2017 NPR article entitled “Physicians Urge Columbia To Fire Dr. Oz For Promoting ‘Quack Treatments,'” 10 well-regarded physicians in the country called for Columbia to fire Dr. Oz for “repeatedly show[ing] disdain for science and for evidence-based medicine” and “promot[ing] quack treatments for financial gain.”

During Covid, Dr. Oz’s quackery became evident to everyone. HuffPost reported in an April 16, 2020 article that schools should re-open because “only” 2 to 3% more people could die. Dr. Oz told Sean Hannity:

That’s right – a doctor thought it would be okay to sacrifice a percentage of the population. That’s when I realized that Dr. Oz isn’t just a quack, he is a eugenicist.

After he was sworn in, Dr. Oz gave a press conference about his plan and vision for healthcare in the country, and it was textbook eugenics.

“It is your patriotic duty — I’ll say it again — the patriotic duty of all Americans to take care of themselves. It’s important for serving in the military but also important because healthy people don’t consume healthcare resources. The best way to reduce drug spending is to use less drugs, because you don’t need them because you’re healthy.”

It is my “patriotic duty” to take care of myself and when that happens, I won’t need as many drugs because I’m now “healthy.” Holy shit, my stage 4 cancer is cured!

Sarcasm aside, this line of thinking from Dr. Oz is absolutely insidious. By equating good health with “patriotism” and military readiness, us sickies would then be… what? Unpatriotic? If you classify a group of people as being unpatriotic or imply that they are a drain to society, then you can easily justify inflicting pain and suffering on them.

Sick and disabled people are always targets for fascist authoritarian regimes. According to the Holocaust Encyclopedia, “Many Germans did not want to be reminded of individuals who did not measure up to their concept of a ‘master race’ and were considered ‘unfit’ or ‘handicapped.’ People with physical and mental disabilities were viewed as ‘useless’ to society, a threat to Aryan genetic purity, and, ultimately, ‘unworthy of life.'”

Dr. Oz’s statement equates good health with being good Americans and a “good” American is one that can join the military and be ready to die for the country. Both Dr. Oz and Secretary Brainworms keep flapping their mouths about unhealthy Americans but notice how they don’t mention expanding Medicaid to ensure more citizens have access to doctors and perhaps get treated for their ailments or ensuring everyone in the country has access to healthy fruits and vegetables.

They want to take away medications, programs and services, all while blaming us sickies for our own illness. The Trump administration does not care if sick and disabled people die, only that the richest among us stay obscenely rich as possible.

The 5-year Mark

In less than a week, I am going to be turning 45. I have now made it 5 years past the age that my mom was when she died from metastatic breast cancer. Not going to lie, it’s a bit of a mindfuck.

My mom was my roadmap for all things related to my health issues. If Patricia had it, then I sure as shit was going to also experience it. Because she paved the way, I was able to get doctors to take me seriously and screen me when something was amiss. I could look to see what Patricia went through and the doctors would go, “Yeah, sure, let’s order a scan / test / blood draw.”

I am going on five years since my stage 4 diagnosis, which in of itself is an amazing milestone. My mom died six or so months after she learned her cancer was stage 4. I can no longer look to see what happened to my mom and know what’s going to happen next besides, you know, the obvious. In fairness, that happens to us all.

My health matched hers and my face matched hers. Now, as I get older, I look at the lines and wrinkles in my face, and I don’t see my mother anymore. I look for her but she’s been frozen in time at the age of 40. I am being afforded a privilege that was not granted to her, and for that, I am grateful.

One thing that has definitely differed between my mom and myself is family involvement. When my mom was sick, my grandpa would come up from Texas and visit her somewhat often. Meanwhile my dad hasn’t made an effort to come visit me in the past 4.5 years. Hey, maybe if I’m lucky, my dad might actually come visit me before the 5 year mark? (Just kidding, he won’t.)

Sometimes I imagine that I live in an alternate reality where my mom never died from this wretched disease. In this scenario, I have a parent that actually checks in with me every week or so to see how I am doing. She was a social worker, so maybe my mom would have been up-to-date with all my scans, bloodwork, and knew to ask me about them without me begging her to care. It would have been nice to have lived in that reality but alas, that’s not the one I currently inhabit.

Last time on the phone, my dad did say he would try and come up to see me. You know what I said? “I really don’t expect anything from you so I’m not holding my breath.”

So happy birthday to me and my parental alienation and abandonment issues!

Being a Cancer Patient in the age of Trump

Ever since Trump was inaugurated, every day, I wake up and wonder, “What fresh hell has the Trump administration unleashed on us today?” Every day, I get an answer to that question, and my stress level just keeps going up and up.

When RFK Jr. was actually confirmed as Secretary of Health and Human Services, I really thought to myself, “We are so fucked. Us sick and disabled people are so fucked.” The government really elected the stupidest mother fucker to make health-based decisions that impacts everyone in this country. For an administration that allegedly is all about “merit-based” hiring, the Trump administration really elevated a brain-wormed, anti-scientist charlatan.

The fact that an anti-vaccine, conspiracy theorist is in charge of the FDA and CDC makes me even more resolute that rich white men will always fall upwards. Would he ever be in this position if his last name was not Kennedy?

According to an April 12, 2025 article in The Hill, measles cases have risen to 700 and the outbreak has spread to 25 states. ProPublica reported on April 11, 2025 that pertussis has increased 1500% nationwide in the country. The article further stated:

The Trump administration has eliminated 20,000 jobs at agencies within HHS, which includes the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, the nation’s public health agency. And late last month, the administration also cut $11 billion from state and local public health agencies on the front lines of protecting Americans from outbreaks; the administration said the money was no longer necessary after the end of the pandemic.

Gee, what could potentially go wrong when you cut jobs and money from the nation’s public health agency when diseases like this are on the rise?

In his first interview since becoming HHS, Secretary Brainworms claimed in a CBS interview that he was not aware of the $11 billion in proposed cuts to local and state programs that address infectious disease, mental health, etc., his response was, “No I’m not familiar with those cuts. We’d have to go … the cuts were mainly DEI cuts, which the president ordered.”

The reporter then provided Secretary Brainworms with an example of being eliminated, which was a $750K University of Michigan grant focused on adolescent diabetes, and RFK Jr said that he would look into it.

This administration is a fucking joke, and we are being led by a bunch of Trump kiss asses and sycophants. I get to wake up every day, as an immunosuppressed woman with Stage 4, wondering what disease and potential pandemic is just waiting around the corner. The thing that really makes me angry as all hell is the fact that you know that this administration does not give a single flying fuck about sick and disabled people.

Did you know that last month, the Trump administration withdrew 11 pieces of guidance related to the ADA that helped stores, hotels and other businesses understand their obligation to the law? According to the Yahoo article, one of the pieces of guidance withdrawn was a “document provided a ‘maintenance list’ for retail stores for ensuring aisles, entrances, parking spaces, elevators and restrooms were accessible for disabled customers.”

On April 1, 2025, NPR reported how that Trump administration also dismantled the agency that is responsible for Meals on Wheels and other services for the disabled and elderly. Trump and his rich billionaires do not care if the elderly or disabled die due to their budget cuts.

This is just a fraction of the horror that Secretary Brainworms and Trump are inflicting on the U.S. They do not want to lead or help people. They want to make sure the rich get richer, and us peons go away as quietly as possible. The fact that family members of mine, even my own dad, voted for this train wreck blows my mind. Is making America great again mean bringing back preventable diseases?

Maybe Secretary Brainworms will make my cancer treatment illegal and force me to inject ivermectin? Who knows when we now live in Idiocracy.

Roller Coaster Scans

My most recent scans consisted of a brain MRI, CT chest with contrast, and a nuclear bone scan. My oncologist told me that if these scans came back all clear, then I could push my next round of scans until six months. I was excited about this because less cancer-related disruption to my life would be amazing.

My brain scan and CT with contrast came back stable and unremarkable. My nuclear bone scan was my last scan, and I wasn’t expecting any bad news because I didn’t think I was feeling any new symptoms. I mean, now and then, I would feel a sharp pain in my shins but that didn’t scream “METASTASTIS” to me. Now and then, I would also feel minor weakness in my leg. In my mind, I was just feeling aches and pains due to being a 44 year old cancer patients and former runner.

Well, the nuclear bone scan came back with a potential new finding in my left femur.

Womp womp.

Is it progression (aka my Ibrance is now failing me)? We don’t know.

The oncologist’s NP called me and said that they want me to get a new bone scan in 3 months, and I scheduled my scan for 1/2/2025. Not my ideal way to start the new year, but eh, what can I do? My inner circle is amazing, and so many have asked me, “How are you feeling?” They have been wonderfully concerned with my anxiety and mental health in general.

Honestly, I am quite alright, which has been surprising to my therapist and myself.

Am I nervous and scared that my first line of treatment might be failing me? Of course.

Am I going to live in a constant state of nervousness and fear until my next scan? No.

While I am not a religious person by any means, I do find comfort in the Serenity Prayer.

O God and Heavenly Father,
Grant to us the serenity of mind to accept that which cannot be changed; courage to change that which can be changed, and wisdom to know the one from the other, through Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen.

I cannot change what has happened or currently happening. If my cancer has indeed progressed, then I will deal with it once we confirmed that it is progression. Until then, I just do not have the energy to freak out about the “what ifs.” I will wait to freak out until my oncologist tells me bad news.

In the meantime, I am going to focus on my job and trying to pay off the debt from my kitchen remodel and basement from hell. If I panic and flail now, then I am doing myself a disservice. I truly have a lot to do, and I need all the mental strength to keep moving forward until I have a confirmed roadblock ahead.

This is just the reality of living with metastatic cancer. I am under no delusion that this is going to be easy for me and that I will never deal with bad news or my health getting worse. I have accepted that this is my reality a long time ago. Obviously I hope that I respond exceptionally well to treatment for years and years to come. I also understand that this is just what metastatic cancer is and does. I’m not special, and I don’t believe God has singled me out to be some sort of inspirational cancer patient.

Cancer is smart, and it is ruthless. I know what I am up against. It’s not a battle. It’s a marathon.

2024, so far

I haven’t updated my blog since I had to put down my beloved Boomer dog. It’s not that nothing of significance has happened since then. Just the opposite. So much has happened this year so far that I’ve been overwhelmed for a large majority of this time.

In February, my beloved niece Emma died. On the one-month anniversary of Boomer’s passing, my eldest brother called me, which he never does. My first thought when I saw that he was calling was, “Oh God, who died?” I am so glad that I didn’t ask that when I answered the phone because someone actually did.

Before my brother’s phone call, I honestly thought to myself that nothing would be more painful than losing my soul dog. I was wrong. Boomer lived a long life, especially for a large breed dog. It was her time. Emma’s death was 100 times more painful (if not more) because her life was only just beginning. Boomer’s death broke my heart, but Emma’s death just ripped it out and stomped on it.

I have often thought to myself that if I am this sad and heartbroken, I could not even imagine the pain that my brother and sister-in-law must feel. I have never been a parent, so it would be insulting to them and Emma’s memory to even act like I could understand their pain. Instead, I just try to be a good sister and aunt to Emma’s siblings. I could write more about my feelings after both their deaths, but I’m afraid I’ll start crying and won’t be able to stop.

While dealing with the grief and depression of losing Emma and my dog, I finally had my kitchen remodeled, which is stressful in a much different way. I had been dreaming of remodeling the god awful kitchen for more than a decade. Knowing I had to pay a crap-ton of money just stressed me out in a different way. I don’t regret getting the kitchen renovation done because it absolutely needed to be done. The stressful part came a month later when the sewer backed up in my basement, and I had to drain my savings account to get the basement floor jackhammered and a new floor drain installed.

Losing my emergency savings sent me into a bit of a spiral. Am I ever going to be able to take some bucket list trips? I have been taking on some photography jobs this year to dig myself out of this financial hole, which is helping a lot. My other dog, Mal, needs to have dental surgery soon so I’ve been saving aggressively for that too. It’s been one thing after the freaking other.

This year hasn’t been all doom and gloom though. My boyfriend, T, moved in with me during the summer. Having him here has been so wonderful and has taken a lot of stress away from me. He and I are settling in and becoming the boring old couple, living a quiet boring life. My cancer is enough drama for me. He and I have dinner and watch Wheel of Fortune together. I love it.

I also re-joined a running-walking group in an effort to get back into shape. It’s been nice to regroup with old friends. I am obviously never going to be the runner I was before my stage 4 diagnosis, but it’s good for me to still keep moving forward, no matter the pace.

My Broken Heart

It’s been a whole week since I had the vet put my beloved Boomer dog down. I have cried and sobbed so much that I’m convinced I have run out of tears.

Boomer followed me every where. If I was outside doing yard work, Boomer was also outside. If I was inside but her sister Mal was also outside, Boomer would be inside with me. She would keep me company in my office as I worked from home, and Boomer slept on her bed in my bedroom. It broke my heart last year when I had to ban her from going up and down the stairs because she had way too many trip and falls.

Boomer was also a very talkative dog. She barked allllll the time, even when I wanted her to stop. If she was frustrated, she barked. If she wanted my attention, she barked. If she wanted me to play with her and her stuffies, she barked. I could not have picked a more appropriate name for her.

I also didn’t realize how much I talked to Boomer every day or sing absolute unhinged songs about her to her. I would hold full conversations with her about how much I loved her, her silliness, or my day. Now, it is just so quiet in my house. Boomer’s sister is not vocal inside the house (just outside the house).

Even when I kicked my no-good, cheating ex out of my house, I never felt alone because I had Boomer. She was always by my side.

I used to think my past breakups were heartbreaking. They pale in comparison to losing my heart dog. You get over breakup, especially. I will never get over losing Boomer. I still look for her every day. She was my purpose in life when I had none. She gave me a reason to get up when I wanted to stay laying down. She saved me time and time again.

Until we meet again, Boomer. I hope Mom was greeting you at the Rainbow Bridge, and Aunt Maggie (aka the Beags) also met you at the entrance. I loved you every day of your life, and I will love you for the rest of mine. Death can’t and won’t change that.

Boomer TheDog Huffman (2010 – 2024)

It is with a heavy heart that I announce the passing of the most beloved dog, Boomer TheDog Huffman (aka Boomer T Dog, Boomie, Boomerlicious, Boom Boom). Boomer is survived by her heart-broken mother, Lara, and her sister, Mal, who is probably happy that she is now an only dog. Her mom, however, is devastated, and will forever have a Boomer-shaped hole in her heart.

Boomer enjoyed de-squeaking and de-fluffing toys, playing keep-away because nothing made her happier than having a toy she thought YOU wanted, modeling for her photographer Mom, patrolling her backyard with her sister, and making sure nobody had fun without her present (aka the Fun Police).

Boomer wasn’t just any ordinary dog. She was a life saver. Boomer was a Christmas gift to her Mom from her now Ex. Boomer arrived in her Mom’s life when she was going through treatment for Stage 1 breast cancer and thyroid cancer. She kept her Mom company during chemotherapy, radiation, and multiple surgeries. There were many naps together.

After treatment ended for Stage 1 breast cancer, her Mom ended up suffering from debilitating depression. Boomer was her Mom’s anchor when life seemed hopeless and void of any happiness. When her Mom finally sought help, a therapist asked her what’s kept her from making a plan, the response was: “Boomer. I have to stick around for Boomer.” When nothing in life seemed worth living, her Mom had Boomer. 

Boomer’s greatest love was people. She absolutely loved everybody and everyone. Boomer had many honorary aunties who loved her fiercely. She never met another human being that she didn’t immediately love. Not once was she ever scared of going to the vet because all the vets and vet techs were her BFFs.

Her Mom is going to miss her dog shadow and canine garbage disposal when she cooked. Boomer loved cucumbers, bell peppers, bananas, everything. She was part lab, after all. She was the Goodest girl, the best. The fact that a large breed dog like Boomer made it to 13 is amazing and for that, her Mom will always be grateful but still believe there should have been more time.

If you feel inclined to honor Boomer, please make a donation to Senior Pet and Animal Rescue, a local non-profit in Pittsburgh dedicated to helping senior pets.

Until we meet again, Boomer. I will be running full speed toward you and Mom when it’s my time. My heart is broken.

Evil Health Trifecta

Buckle up for a story time on how I ended up at the Emergency Room and then two nights in the hospital. I’m okay now or at least, I’m on my way to being okay.

Last Friday evening, my stomach started to do the thing it does where it makes me want to die just a little by making everything, um, explosive. When I woke up last Saturday, I had a splitting headache that didn’t feel like my typical sinus headache. I took Ibuprofen to get rid of the headache, and it took roughly three or four hours for the headache to go away.

Between my stomach problems and headache, the day was not looking good for me.

However, my boyfriend came over to my house in the afternoon to hang out. I was hoping my day could get back on track after such a rough start. We were watching TV, and I was laying on him, as I normally do. I started feeling extremely cold, which is unusual for me. I am never cold. When I began to shiver, I knew something was wrong with me.

I took my temp, and it read 100.4. I took ibuprofen in an effort to break the fever. I really did not want to go to the ER. I re-took my temp before going to bed and it was 99.3. Before going to sleep, I felt confident that I could avoid going to the ER.

When I woke up at 3:30 am on Sunday because of my explosive stomach, I realized that I was wrong. I took my temp and it read 101.2. I called the on-call oncologist, who quickly told me, “Yes, go straight to the ER.”

I asked my neighbor to take me to a community hospital ER because I wanted to generally stay away from people. Honestly, I thought I would just be receiving fluids in the ER and sent home with antibiotics for my fever, but that’s not what happened.

They asked me if I had any cough, and I responded, “Yeah. Just a slight dry cough.” The doctor ordered a chest CT with contrast. Shortly thereafter, the doctor came back to my room to tell me that I had blood clots in both lungs, and they would be admitting me. On top of the blood clots, they diagnosed me with colitis.

It took me several moments to process what they told me. A blood clot? Blood clots? I had no idea. The doctor asked me if I had been experiencing any shortness of breath, and I replied, “Yeah, I noticed shortness of breath when I went up and down stairs, but I just thought it was because I’m fat now.” Other than that, I was not experiencing any other noticeable symptoms.

Since I was being admitted, the community hospital had to get an ambulance to transfer me from their facility to the downtown main hospital. The one tech really lectured the hell out of me for coming to the community hospital when I should have gone to main hospital location. I told him, “I thought I was just coming in for fluids. I had no idea this was happening.” Grr.

I spent three days, two nights in the hospital. I was hooked up to a heperin trip and had my left arm poked and prodded so much that I felt like a human pin cushion. The nurses had to routinely take blood from me to monitor the heperin, and they had to access my veins through my hand and wrist. I am pretty sure you could torture me for information by obtaining blood through my wrist.

After I got home, I used two days to rest up from my three-day stint in the hospital pokey. I am still processing what happened to me. Breast cancer, blood clots, colitis… oh my. Talk about an evil trifecta designed to make me miserable and tired. They sent me home with a starter back of Eliquis, and I’m adjusting to my life on blood thinners.

Once again, I am adjusting to a new normal, and my new normal now involves me being tired quite a bit. Good times, good times.

Life as an Agnostic

If you know me, then you know that I have never considered myself a religious person. I was raised Catholic, but as soon as my dad told me that I was an adult in the Catholic Church’s eyes and no longer had to go, I peaced out so hard. After that, I would only attend church on Christmas and Easter for my dad, but I would never willingly attend church by myself on days that weren’t religious holidays.

After my dad retired at 65 and moved down to Florida, I stopped going all together.

My connection to the Catholic Church was only through my dad, and when he was removed from the equation, I had zero connection to the church. If I ever spend a Christmas or Easter with him, I’m sure I’ll probably attend church with him but other than weddings or funerals, I will not go.

While I do not considerer myself Catholic or religious, I wouldn’t consider myself an atheist. I have been identifying as an agnostic for two decades now. I feel absolutely nothing whenever I’m in a mass and a priest or pastor is talking about the word of God. My main issue is that I just cannot separate organized religion from the harm it has caused in the world.

A friend of mine shared this spot-on quote with me:

The greatest single cause of atheism in the world today is Christians who acknowledge Jesus with their lips, then walk out the door and deny him by their lifestyle. That is what an unbelieving world simply finds unbelievable.

Brennan Manning

I cannot and will not separate the Catholic church from all of the the documented abuse and coverup. Story, after story, after story, after story, after story, after story, after story, after story, after story, after story. I could keep going when it comes to abuse in the Catholic church. It’s not specific to the Catholic Church. In 2022, news broke about abuse in the the Southern Baptist church. The LDS church has not been immune from this either.

I understand that it’s not all Catholics, Baptists or LDS members. I have loved ones who are members of these churches, and they are fantastic, loving people. My issue is primarily with the institutions itself, as well as the individual members who want to use their religion to be hateful toward marginalized groups. Regardless, my neuro-spicy brain cannot reconcile the disconnect between these religious institutions screaming about “protecting the children” when it comes to LGBTQ people while ignoring the actual child abuse within their own places of worship.

Some of the worst people I’ve come across claim to be a child of Christ but then say or do the most absolute hateful things to people. You know the ones. The people who actually seem gleeful when they condemn others to pain and suffering in hell. Who does that? Who feels satisfaction and joy at the idea of other people suffering for eternity? That’s sadistic and pretty sure that’s the opposite of Christ like. These people use their religion as a license to just be hateful to others.

When I walk past Church members on the street picketing an abortion clinic, I wonder how many of them actually care about all those babies once they are born. Did they vote for the candidate advocating for subsidized childcare, free lunches for kids at school, common sense gun legislation so kids don’t get shot up in school, or paid medical leave for parents?

I would not be opposed to attending a place of worship if I thought it was a good fit. I just would not associate myself with any religion that spends more time oppressing marginalized communities or screaming at women than actually helping communities. I do not understand those who are more focused on what might happen when we die than focusing on what is going on while we are still alive.

However, if I ever get married, I would never get married in the Catholic church. The idea of going through marriage classes with a priest sounds like absolute hell on earth for me. As much as I love my dad, I draw the line at lying to priests about my beliefs or lack thereof.

Whenever I do die, I absolutely do not want a Catholic priest for my memorial service or even have there be a Catholic mass. That’s the last thing I would want. If my family wants to do that for themselves, I can’t stop them but I hope they understand that the mass would be for them and not a way to honor me. I do feel the presence of God whenever I’m walking in a trail and surrounded by nature.

When I’m gone, I want to be cremated and spread out throughout as many forests possible. That way, there would be no grave marker for me but my loved ones could visit me whenever they step foot on any trail.

From ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

Change is Happening

I moved into my yellow brick house in 2010, and since day 1, I have hated the yellow and green main bathroom. In recent years, I have seen some serious water damage coming from my bathroom in my kitchen ceiling. In one corner of my kitchen, you can see obvious water damage to the drop ceiling tile that looked like it came from the toilet.

After many years and aggressively saving what I could, my bathroom is finally being remodeled. Squeeeeeee. I hired a contractor that my friend, Amy, had hired and recommended. I was so nervous about hiring any contractor, especially after two of my friends had a contractor horror story, resulting in losing $17 grand. So when a friend recommended a contractor and his price was reasonable, I jumped on it.

I’ve been dreaming about and talking for years about renovating my bathroom, and now it’s currently happening. My nerves are shot to hell due to happy excitement and anxious excitement. This is going to cost so much money BUT I’m going to have a waterproof bathroom in an aesthetic that I actually like. I will be able to take a shower without worrying about the ceiling in my kitchen collapsing.

This new bathroom also means that friends can visit me and actually stay with me! Last time my best friend was in town, I ended up paying for her to stay in a nearby hotel room instead of staying with me. I didn’t want to subject her to my bathroom, plus I didn’t have a functioning spare room for her either. Thanks to my wonderful boyfriend, he fixed the broken bed in the spare room and now there’s a place for someone else to sleep here!

I wonder what my stress and anxiety levels will feel like when the renovation is 100 percent done. Ever since my stage 4 diagnosis, I have been worried about what is going to happen when I can no longer work. If I had to sell my house and move somewhere, I knew my awful bathroom and kitchen would screw me over. Now, I’ll just have my kitchen as the main project to do next.

When all of this is done, will I finally be able to relax?

Probably not. Haha.