Congrats, Dana! Knowing and acknowledging who you are is a good thing.

dcp and Calli, thank you for your cards! They're lovely.

(I need to go back and read everyone's posts about this year and respond properly. I will. Eventually. Sorry about that).

I thought I knew what to say about this year, but I really don't. I'm just glad it's almost over.

But! Dana, that's a wonderful revelation to have had. Congrats!

The card exchange has been fun. Thanks to all who sent me cards this season; I have enjoyed them very much. They hang on a string along my mantel and they make me smile every time I see them.

2020 treated me very mildly, compared to most people. When it came time to isolate, I was well prepared to be able to work from home, and well prepared with groceries and other supplies needed to stay home. The various shortages in the stores never bothered me. I had shelter. Water stayed on. Power stayed on. Internet stayed on.

Most of my attention has been taken up with monitoring the progress of my cancer, adjusting to changes in medical routines, and dealing with side effects. Loss of muscle, lack of strength, lack of stamina, and an increase in overall fatigue have all become very noticeable, especially since September, but I'm coping.

In November I qualified to enroll in a clinical trial, and one of the consequences of that was another round of chemotherapy -- a different poison this time, cabazitaxel instead of docetaxel. The routine is the same as last time, six intravenous infusions, each three weeks apart.

No scalded tongue this time, but some flavors have definitely shifted. Pears and apples are bland, but not completely tasteless. Ginger ale is now somehow both sour *and* bitter, but it still seems to help against the nausea, so I keep sipping.

I started growing a Van Dyke at the end of May, and haven't trimmed it at all. The moustache doesn't grow long enough to twist or curl, which is disappointing. The goatee is now long enough to tug meditatively, but not yet long enough to braid. I wonder whether the chemo will make it fall out. I haven't lost any hair this time -- yet.

If all continues to go smoothly, I should be done with IV chemo in the first week of March, leaving just a regular routine of daily oral medications. Early signs are that the chemo is working as desired, knocking back existing tumors and preventing new ones.

I am not at all religious, but I try to be mindful of my responsibilities, my privileges, and my blessings.

I have a lot of blessings I can count. Buffistas.org is among them. Thank you for being here.

Now, begone 2020! Here's to a better 2021!

Early signs are that the chemo is working as desired, knocking back existing tumors and preventing new ones.

That's excellent!

The card exchange has been fun. Thanks to all who sent me cards this season; I have enjoyed them very much.

I still intend to send mine out! I just couldn't get my shit together to send them before Christmas. So 5 people have a Teppy card to look forward to, I promise.

Early signs are that the chemo is working as desired, knocking back existing tumors and preventing new ones.

Wonderful news!

Thank you for being here, too, dcp!

Always glad to see your text dcp!

2020 has been a lot, but my immediate family is one of the lucky ones. Dylan was already 100% WFH, my office quickly pivoted to remote work in March, and Alex's introversion and comfort with technology has stood him in better stead for remote learning than a lot of kids. Our health and financial position have remained sound so far.

The worst of 2020 by far for me personally was losing my oldest brother to suicide. Distance and the large age gap between me and my brothers make them more like uncles to me than siblings, but it's still a hole in my world.

In much happier family news, Dylan and I have been supporting Alex in his transition. It isn't always easy adjusting your ideas about your child's identity, but there was never any question but that we would listen and trust his own self-knowledge and give him our full love and support. It was a joyous moment to stand beside him in the courthouse when the judge made his name change official and congratulated him, and to surprise him with a fancy cake iced in the colors of the trans pride cake and labeled "It's a boy!" (Dealing with the cascading paperwork of updating all his records is...less joyous, but we're plugging away at it.)

I devoted a lot of time, energy, and money to the election this year. Back before we went into isolation, I knocked on doors for Elizabeth Warren. Starting in 2017 but mostly in 2019-20, I wrote and mailed over 3000 Postcards to Voters and ~1500 Vote Forward Letters.

I joined a discernment group at my church this year, despite a certain trepidation that everyone would try to convince me I had a vocation for ordained ministry. It ended up being a great experience that helped me move past my feelings of being a failure who hasn't accomplished enough. By the end of the process I came to a place of accepting myself as a perfectly good, really quite accomplished and successful version of ME rather than a failed version of someone else. And while no one tried to convince me to seek ordination, I am a lay worship leader at my church now, which I very much enjoy, especially the preaching part. 

My quarantine hobby is birding. I got a bird feeder for Christmas, and it's starting to attract new birds beyond the locally ubiquitous chickadees, finches, and crows. Yesterday I identified a Bewick's wren and a red-breasted nuthatch, both first-time sightings for me. Crows are still my favorites, though.

Back in 2015 I took a break from writing because I was feeling burned out and frustrated. I was planning to get back to it during NaNoWriMo in 2016, but then the election happened and I couldn't imagine writing the fun, optimistic contemporary romance between a Bama alum PhD student living in Seattle and an Auburn alum star NFL quarterback when the contemporary world seemed so bleak. (I have so much respect for everyone who DID write similar books during the past four years, though!) Anyway, I kept trying and failing to write anything, and I had just about given up thinking I'd ever complete a work of fiction again. This came up in my discernment group as we were discussing various interests and opportunities I had, and one of the group members asked, "How would you feel if someone told you that you could never writer another word of fiction?" I replied that I would fight that person and refuse to listen to them, so emphatically that I and everyone in the room saw that as my ACTUAL vocation.

So I tiptoed back into writing. This Sunday I submitted a 3000-word urban fantasy short story to an anthology submission call I found on the SFWA website. And while I know very well that the editors received at least hundreds, maybe thousands of submissions for a mere handful of available slots, making my odds of acceptance really low, it felt SO DAMN GOOD to once again be a working writer actively seeking publication. When I hit send on that email, it was like driving a stake through the heart of writer's block, the past four years, and especially 2020. They're over, or will be soon, but I'm still standing.

(Oh, and tomorrow is my 50th birthday, so that's a thing too.)