Category Archives: Conflict

A cancer diagnosis

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Chris, Kaia, and I were originally planning to meet two friends, a couple, this Saturday for lunch. But as the date was approaching, one of the friends seemed a bit non-committal when it came to picking a place. She was evading suggestions and not really saying she wanted or didn’t want anything. It was confusing because her tone wasn’t normally like this over text, so I could tell something was wrong that she didn’t want to share. Finally two days ago, she admitted to me that her head wasn’t in a great place because she just had a biopsy on a breast the other day that could mean she had breast cancer. So I suggested that we meet to catch up in person today, as maybe a 1:1 conversation would be easier for her to stomach than a group outing. And she agreed.

Yesterday, she got the biopsy results. They confirmed that she did, in fact, have a very early stage of ductal carcinoma, essentially stage zero breast cancer that had started developing in her milk ducts. Her doctor went over potential treatment options as a move-forward plan. She has another biopsy scheduled next week. She was very lucky that this was caught, as she had been avoiding mammograms for the last five years because her first mammogram was a miserable experience. Her doctor urged her to get the mammogram done, and then had the radiology department call her repeatedly to harass her into finally making an appointment. I told her she was very lucky to have such an involved, caring doctor. In my case, I am not sure I have any doctor who would be that insistent and make sure to follow up with me repeatedly… on anything. When it comes to breast cancer or any cancer for that matter, catching it this early is the best news you could possibly have.

My friend recently lost one of her best friends to an aggressive brain cancer. And previous to that, she lost her aunt to lung cancer (this is someone who had never smoked a day in her life). So cancer has unfortunately been top of mind for her in recent years. Now she has to go through treatments herself. She said this has forced her to think about death more, as unpleasant as it is…. and she sees all of this as a sign that she needs to go “full throttle” on all the things she wants to accomplish in life that will make her feel fulfilled before she dies… hopefully in another several decades.

I told her I think it’s really healthy for us to think more often about death. When you think about death, it forces you to come to terms with the fact that you will not live forever. And therefore, life is precious, and you need to focus on what’s truly important and meaningful to you. Stop obsessing over stupid shit. Stop spending time with people who deplete you and take from you but never give. Stop obsessing what “other people” will think. Stop putting off reading that book you’ve “been meaning “to read, or delaying that vacation you’ve been dreaming of taking. Quit your awful, toxic job and find something else where you’ll be treated better and like a real human. I realize all this is easier said than done, but all of this can be accomplished with little baby steps every single day. The baby steps become bigger steps, and then we start letting go of all the crap that doesn’t matter in life.

So, maybe this is life’s way of telling her that she’s meant to do great things, and she still has time. Plus, just get the freaking mammogram every year.

Canadian wildfires’ smoke come down to the Northeast of the US

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While this isn’t the first time we’ve experienced this, for the last two days, our skies have been grey, hazy, and smoky because of the numerous Canadian wildfires that are happening further north of us. The fact that it is causing air pollution here in New York City just shows how widespread and massive the wildfires are. Today, our building sent a mass email notification to let us know they would be shutting off the fans in all public hallways to prevent the wildfire smoke from further entering the building. Many people outside are wearing masks. Those who have respiratory issues have been asked to stay indoors. When I stepped outside today to go pick Kaia up from summer camp, I could immediately smell a burning smell.

All of this makes me sad. It’s a reality of living in a time of climate change. But it makes me even sadder that we have an administration that denies climate change is even a thing. And it’s even more terrifying that many people believe climate change is a hoax. How do you then look at the hazy skyline of New York City that is barely visible right now due to wildfires all the way up in Canada…?!

When a fancy cake store opens along the way home, and someone doesn’t get the cake she wants

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A new location of Lady M Cake Boutique has opened just a block away from where we live, and it’s along our walk back home from the subway. As we anticipated the cake shop opening for a while, Kaia kept asking when they would open so we could go in and have some cake. I told her that when they opened, I would take her and we could get some cake.

Well, the day finally came the week before we left for our Caribbean trip. I did stay true to my word, and we did end up going in. Kaia chose a slice she wanted, and we left with a very expensive slice of cake. Unfortunately, she never ended up having cake that evening because she was already full from dinner, so Chris and I ended up having to eat the cake ourselves. She remembered she never got any cake. So for the last two days when we pass this cake shop, she has raised hell with me and tantrummed like there’s no tomorrow to try to get her way.

And… well, it’s been pretty miserable for me. She knows I am softer than Chris, which is why she always asks me for these types of treats and not him. And she also lashes out a lot more when I say no.

“I WANT CAKE! YOU WILL BUY ME CAKE!” she screamed twice this week on the sidewalk as I nearly had to drag her along the way home.

I probably need to have a long chat with ChatGPT to see how I can calm a screaming 4-year-old down when she doesn’t get what she wants because my patience is really wearing with all these public outbursts. I’m *that* mother trying to control her child, who apparently thinks she can have whatever she wants when she wants it.

Another day, another layoff

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I’ve been working full time for over 18 years now. And at every single company I’ve ever been at, I’ve seen layoffs happen. At my first company, there was a layoff just four months after I started. Then five months later, layoff round 2 happened, and I got cut. Fast forward 18 years later, and layoffs are pretty much the normal thing that I expect will happen. The question, though, is, whether I will get laid off.

I’ve been at my current company for almost six years now. I’ve seen two rounds of layoffs here before today. The first was unexpected. The second was planned, announced, and very much expected. And then today’s was also expected given my company merged (or really, got acquired) by another company, so of course there were duplicities and restructuring that needed to happen. I guess at this point of my career, I have just become numb to all the madness, the constant change, the constant “reductions in force.” It’s tiring, exhausting, demoralizing. When you work in tech, your job is never, ever “safe.” Job stability is a joke here. The default expectation is that there will be layoffs.

Luckily for me this time, after layoff round 3, I am still employed. My job is safe — at least for the next few months. Who knows what will happen and what decisions will be made? I remember when I got laid off the first time in 2009, even though I had a big feeling I would be impacted, when it finally happened, I felt so sad, angry, and confused all at the same time. I felt a lot of insecurity and uncertainty about my place in life (it also didn’t help that my mom equated employment with self worth, but that’s another stupid story for another day). What I wish I could have told myself then was that — everything always works out in the end. “You will be more than okay.” Leaving a job not on your own terms is never a fun thing. But there’s always something better out there — the time just has to be right.

Mangoes with black spots = sign of ripeness in other countries, but a sign of rot/”bad” in the U.S.

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One thing I noticed while eating the many varieties of mangoes we were lucky to taste across four Caribbean islands on this trip was that many of them are ripe when they have black spots. This is actually a good thing, not a bad thing: it signals to us that they are ready to eat, and we should eat them right away! This was the case for the Julie and mango longues, and especially true for the starch and dodo mangoes. We got told from multiple vendors, as well as our smoothie guy who gifted us the five cutlass mangoes in Port of Spain, that black spots were a positive thing. The funny thing is that I told Chris that this would absolutely not fly in the U.S. You could never have a display of mostly black spotted mangoes in the U.S. and actually get those to sell — no freaking way!

The strange thing, though, is that black spots with mango varieties readily available in the U.S. — so Ataulfo (champagne, our default from March to June) and Kent — actually are not good when they have black spots. For these two mango varieties that come from Mexico, black spots are a sign that they have really gone bad or are about to go bad. I know this after peeling and cutting hundreds and hundreds of mangoes over the years. Sometimes we don’t monitor the mangoes closely enough, and the black spots appear. And once the spots appear, this is truly a sign of rot. Those parts don’t taste good, or they actually smell off. Some of them become mush in the parts where the black spots are.

The American public is quite superficial when it comes to produce. Everyone wants picture-perfect fruit and vegetables, oftentimes at the expense of taste, flavor, and even nutrition. It’s partly why mainstream supermarket tomatoes look super red and plump but often taste like nothing or are mealy in texture inside. So I doubt that even if Trinidad and Tobago could export mango longue or starch mangoes to the U.S. that they would do well from a sales perspective outside of ethnic markets in neighborhoods with a large Caribbean population. That is sad, a real loss for someone like me who wants every single mango variety possible at the tips of her fingers!

A connecting flight went awry from MIA to JFK

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From Port of Spain, we flew to Miami for our connecting flight back to New York. In Miami, we cleared immigration, gathered our checked bags, re-submitted our checked bags, and went through security. The line was actually much quieter than we had anticipated, likely because we were there on the 4th of July. So while it was annoying to have to clear immigration and get and re-check our bags, at least we knew we wouldn’t have to do this again once we reached New York.

The connecting flight from MIA to JFK was smooth… or at least, it was smooth until we were circling New York, and then the pilot announced that due to inclement weather (WHAT WEATHER?), no planes were allowed to land at JFK, and instead of circling the airport to wait on landing clearance, they were going to fly us straight back to Miami!

When I first heard the pilot say this, my first (usual) thought was, “Is this some crazy joke?!” But of course, it wasn’t. We were seriously going to fly all the way back to Miami and wait to see when the “weather concerns” cleared up so that planes could land.

This could have ended really badly; I had worst case scenarios circling in my head about what I’d have to do for work and when. We could have never even made it to New York on Sunday or even Monday depending on the weather/airport/landing situation. But luckily for us, while we were still in the air going back to Miami, the pilot announced that we could go back and land. So the plan was to land the plane, re-fuel, inspect the plane, and then immediately fly back. The flight crew would remain in tact, as their day started with us, so there was no concern about timing out. If we chose to get off the plane, we’d have to take all our belongings and get off, and would not be allowed to re-board and take this flight back to New York.

We were schedule to land just before 1am on the 5th of July. In the end, we flew to New York, turned around to fly back to Miami. We stayed in Miami for about 30 minutes before getting back into the air and flying back to JFK (Chris noted that this in-air time already exceeded our flight from Trinidad to Miami!). We landed just after 5:30am. So yes, while we were delayed 5.5 hours, this easily could have been so, so much worse. Chris and I didn’t sleep at all; Kaia slept, but her slumber was obviously disrupted.

We got back home, unpacked, and did three loads of laundry. We tried to sleep, but Kaia made it a bit challenging (“WHY ARE YOU SLEEPING! I don’t want you to to sleep! I want you to take me out to blow bubbles!” — says the person who actually slept in flight…). I did sleep for about an hour. I took Kaia out for bubbles and playground time (it was deserted; what a quiet time to be in the city!). I made a full home-cooked meal for us — niku udon loaded with veggies and roasted broccoli with shio kombu. I also steamed banh chung from the freezer and roasted red bell peppers. I started food prep for tomorrow by soaking two types of beans, brown rice, and quinoa. Although we’ve had an amazing time being away the last two weeks, I will say that I was happy to be back in my own bed tonight, and happy to be back in my kitchen.

Call from school, and an unexpected urgent trip to the doctor’s office

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It was mid-afternoon today. I was in the middle of writing a long Slack message to someone to prep them for a customer meeting. And suddenly, I saw my phone ringing, and it was Kaia’s school’s number. So I answered it, and school administrator let me know that Kaia’s right eye was red and swollen, and she could barely open it and said it was hurting. I asked if she had gotten bitten by a bug at the playground, and the teacher said it was a possibility, but she strongly suggested I come pick her up as soon as possible and take her to Urgent Care because she was concerned. I told her I’d try to shift some things in my schedule to do an earlier pickup and would call her back. During that time, I did a quick inquiry with ChatGPT about the symptoms the admin shared, and this is the response it gave me:

“Given that she can barely open one eye and it’s red and swollen, she should be seen today, urgently—call her pediatrician’s urgent line now or go to urgent care/ER, especially if you cannot be seen quickly.

Possible causes include a bug bite/allergic reaction, a stye, irritation, or conjunctivitis, but the concerning possibility is periorbital cellulitis—a bacterial infection of the eyelid/skin around the eye. A rarer but more serious form, orbital cellulitis, involves deeper tissues and is an emergency. Children can have unilateral eyelid swelling/redness from these infections, and it can sometimes follow a small scratch, bug bite, or recent sinus/cold symptoms—even if those symptoms are not obvious. 

Go to the ER now if she has any of these: fever, eye pain, pain with eye movement, trouble moving the eye, vision changes, double vision, the eye bulging forward, severe headache, vomiting, unusual sleepiness, or she looks very unwell. These are red flags for orbital cellulitis, which needs urgent evaluation.”

So, as you can imagine, my eyes stay on “periorbital celluitis.” And I’m thinking, it can be that serious – are you for real? At that point, the admin sent me a photo of Kaia’s right eye, which was closed, very red, and puffy. This did not look good that she couldn’t even open the eye. So I dialed her pediatrician’s office and spoke with the receptionist, explained the symptoms, and she asked if I could come at 4. It was about 3:40 at the time, so I said I’d have to go from the Upper West Side down to Chinatown to pick her up and bring her to the office, so I could probably make it just after 4:30 if I pushed it. They squeezed me in and said Kaia would be the last patient of the day.

Well, when I went for early pickup, Kaia was already able to open her right eye. The swelling and redness had died down considerably, and her mood seemed to be more chipper. I told her we were going to the doctor’s office, so she got excited that we’d be taking the (new) B train to a stop we normally don’t get off at – West 72nd Street! She eagerly counted all the stops and then yelled when it was time to get off. Just based on her mood, I had a strong feeling this was a false alarm.

The doctor finally saw her and after examining and checking a few things, she said she’s concluded that Kaia may be having seasonal allergies. It didn’t seem like anything serious, so she gave me some children’s Zyrtec, gave me instructions in case the puffiness/redness came back, or if she wakes up with a red eye ball tomorrow morning. The doctor proactively wrote and filled a prescription for the eye drops in case her eye was red tomorrow, and she sent us on our merry way.

By the time we left, it was as though Kaia had nothing. That was lucky, as it easily could have been a lot worse. But I still felt better we had her checked with the doctor to be in the clear.

Chats with AI are great, but man, can they stir up the worst of the worst possibilities.

An identity crisis at the grocery store

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While in the dairy section at Trader Joe’s yesterday, I stood in front of a refrigerated wall of yogurt options, debating what to get. Given my focus on high protein, lean muscle building, and fat loss as of late, I knew I had to (at least temporarily) ignore the European style full-fat yogurt I would normally get in favor of the drained, thicker lower-fat Greek yogurt. But when I looked at the Greek yogurt options, I felt confused: why were all the 1% and 2% fat options so much smaller quantity wise, yet more expensive than the 0% large container (one quart)? And also, where did all those 1-2% fat Greek yogurt options even go? This section of the shelf had been completely wiped out before I even arrived at the store late morning, so even if I had wanted to choose those, they were no longer there for me. So I was left with the 0% fat Greek yogurt option, which was my least desired option (zero percent – what is that – like eating a bunch of nothing favor-wise?!). And since I had made the trek all the way up to 92nd Street, there was no way I wasn’t coming back with Greek yogurt, as it was on top of my ‘to-buy’ list. I felt like I was having an identity crisis: since when did I ever buy nonfat anything — ever? Even before living with Chris, when I lived with my then-roommate and friend, we always bought 1-2% fat milk or yogurt. This felt like a funny thing — me walking around Trader Joe’s with two quarts of zero percent fat Greek yogurt (which also happened to be the very last two quarts of Greek yogurt in the entire store at that time!). Maybe the Yvonne I thought I was will no longer be?

I told my friend about my identity crisis over text when I came back from TJs, and she laughed at me and said that zero percent dairy is basically like eating a thick blob of nothing. Even with her fat loss / lean muscle building goals (and she has always been way more into this than I ever was), she said even she refuses touch that stuff and has to do at least 1 percent fat. Welp, there we have it: even she won’t touch it.

Coral reef scrapes, the painful burn, and the 4-year-old who wants to ice mama’s butt

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Given that I am a city person through and through, I guess it’s no wonder that I’ve always had a fear of deep water, especially the ocean water. I’m a human being living on the land; by definition, the ocean is a foreign place to me because I cannot live in the ocean. And for all you people out there who love swimming in the ocean and think you are really a mermaid, reality check: you are not! So on the three previous times I’d been snorkeling and saw very, very deep water and can tell the ocean floor is extremely far below me, I occasionally have this tiny wave of panic come over me and just hope to some higher power that my leg doesn’t cramp up or my life vest does not suddenly fail. So then I take a deep breath and keep swimming.

This morning was our last morning in Roatan and our last chance to be at the beach before taking a plane to San Pedro Sula, where we’ll be until midday Monday. No one is going to complain about a last beach outing, and I wanted to seize the moment and go snorkeling one last time. So we went to the beach for a couple hours before packing up and heading to the airport. Chris did not share the desire to go snorkeling again, so when I went out, it was just me while he stayed ashore with Kaia.

This didn’t really bother me that he didn’t want to go out again. The water is pretty calm and virtually waveless. It’s really the perfect place to go snorkeling without supervision or help. So I went out on my own. For a long time, it felt really nice. I saw a lot of the same fish as yesterday, and this time, I saw even more schools of different fish varieties. But then suddenly out of nowhere, I got hit by a wave that I didn’t anticipate, and I got pushed into a really shallow (and seemingly dead) stretch of coral. Then, I got pushed into a sitting position — on top of the dead coral. This was a really shallow area — the water was barely even two feet deep here. I kept looking around to see where I could swim to escape the coral — it almost looked endless no matter which way I looked. How the hell was I supposed to get off this thing?! I eventually got out of the area and into open water, but I could tell that I had more than just a few nicks and scrapes. Something on my right butt cheek was burning, and it was definitely from stupidly sitting on the coral. I mean, it wasn’t like I meant to do that, but it just kind of happened…

This is why the ocean can be dangerous: you have no idea what is lurking out there that does not want you in its space. And they will do things to you to harm you if you are in the wrong place at the wrong time. I swam quickly back to shore, where Kaia immediately noticed scrapes bleeding on my right leg and asked me about my “boo boo.” I went to the restroom to properly clean my scrapes and examine my wounds. The scrapes were fine — they looked like any other scrape. But the wounds that were on my right butt cheek were another story: they were bright red, puffing, pulsing, and burning. And this feeling was not reducing in the least bit even after I washed the area and tried to pour clean, cold water on it. After a shower, the pulsing pain and burning persisted. So en route to the airport, I told Chris we needed to stop by a pharmacy to see if I could get an ointment for this. I explained to a pharmacist what happened, and she gave me a hydrocortisone cream to apply on my scrapes. When we eventually got to our hotel in San Pedro Sula, the hotel manager was really kind and made me an ice bag, and I applied that to my butt for a bit in our room before we went out for dinner.

Kaia insisted on helping me ice my butt: “Mama, I wanna ice your butt!” She shrieked multiple times. So I let her push the ice bag against my butt while I lay on the bed. She’s always looking for ways to be helpful, and I know she has a very strong, caring, nurturing side to her (I’ve lost count of the number of times she checks in with me on random “boo boos” she finds on my body, when she asks if something hurts, and when she cares for all the dolls at school when it’s activity center time). I find it really sweet and endearing, and hope she continues to be caring and attuned to others’ feelings.

After dinner out at Power Chicken (a local fast food chain favorite with huge portions!), we showered and slept. But I still couldn’t sleep. The pulsing pain and burning was not improving. And now when I scratched it, there was a very deep pain that would result from that. The ice bag was not a proper ice pack, so I couldn’t sleep with it without wetting the bed eventually. So after 1.5 hours of burning and pulsating, I finally came up with the idea of taking the cold plastic water bottles in our fridge and using them as a pseudo ice pack setup. The fridge was cold enough, so I was finally able to fall asleep.

And… I tried falling asleep hoping this wasn’t some insane outlier coral reef scrape infection that would end in sepsis and potentially kill me.

When parenting is not fun

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Kaia has been in a mood today. She was pouty at drop-off when Chris brought her to school. Then when I picked her up this late afternoon, she insisted that we had to wait for a little friend in the 3s program since she saw his mom outside waiting. I annoyingly complied and waited. When the mom and kid wanted to wait for the elevator and Kaia did, too, I insisted this was ridiculous. She yelled, so I waited for about two minutes, then finally had to nearly drag her down the stairs because the elevator was too slow, and I refused to put up with it. Whenever she is around her “peers,” she wants to be with them and do whatever they are doing (e.g. waiting for the stupid and slow elevator) for as long as possible. Most times, I humor her. Today, it was just frustrating me.

We got on the train uptown, and I gave her a pack of seaweed to snack on. Kaia refused to give it back to me when we got to our stop, so I (dumbly) let her hold it as we walked up the stairs. She then proceeded to predictably drop the seaweed box, wasting about five strips of seaweed. I hate food waste. She knew she did something wrong and yelled, “It was an accident!” And I brought her to the trash bin to throw the wasted strips away. The irritation was just growing.

But then the cherry on top really happened: instead of holding my hand to walk up the stairs out of the train station, Kaia haphazardly started running in front of hoards and hoards of people trying to enter the subway entrance because she wanted me to take a different stairway than she did. When she ran into one person and they stopped, she would back up and try to run into yet another person. It was as though she had suddenly stopped comprehending that she was in other people’s way and had to walk up where there was no one in front of her. After calling for her multiple times when she refused to listen, I eventually had to grab her and carry her up the stairs and across the street. She was kicking, screaming, and crying the whole time. I rarely care when people stare at me carrying or disciplining her when she’s fussy. But I really, really hate it when she inconveniences other people or gets in other people’s way because it’s so inconsiderate. If she wants to throw a tantrum, fine, but do not do it in the middle of a chaotic subway station with people trying to get by us. No one in New York City wants to be slowed down by anyone else.

She screamed and cried for the entire two blocks home. Part of that time I had to carry her. Part of that time, I was nearly dragging her. And all of that time, she was crying and yelling. I stayed as even keeled as I could. I rarely even raised my voice. But the entire time, I just thought: Really? This kid is almost 4.5 years old. When do the tantrums over things that make zero sense ever end? Do they ever end…? My goal is that Kaia will not grow up to be some self-centered, “me me me” person and think the world should revolve around her. But in these moments where she is physically running into other people and expecting them to make way for her, I am so tempted to just slap some sense into her.

Yes, 36 years ago, my mom would have done just that: she would have slapped, hit, or beaten me into submission, even for the tiniest infractions. In fact, I still remember once when I was the same age as Kaia today, 4-year-old Yvonne did something my mom did not like, and she immediately pulled me into a public restroom stall, beat me, then yelled at me to stop crying and wipe my face, “Otherwise people will think I am abusing you!” I am not doing that with my kid. …Though I’d be lying if I said I never thought about it in these moments of total chaos.

Well, it’s a good thing there aren’t thought police out there.