I put this in the world this morning. Check it out on my Patreon page.

Both my kids are in some form of childcare this morning, which has not happened in 16 months, and I used the first hour to release a new EP to my Patrons. BAM! It feels good to have someone doing wholesome things with my kids, so I can work. So I can CREATE. Even if it's just me doing administrative stuff, it feels good to release music to the folks to support me directly. (No guilt trip intended, haha, though of course wouldn't today be a GREAT day to finally join my Patreon community?)

What a wild year it's been. I'm fired up and ready to start nailing down jobs for the 2022 -- tours, festivals, speaking engagements, really ANYTHING!

This weekend I'm actually completely booked up, working three jobs in three days, and I couldn't be more thrilled.

Friday, June 11: virtual show for Cambridge Folk Club (UK)
Saturday, June 12: live outdoor show for YMCA conference in Berea
Sunday, June 13: private outdoor event 

Oh, live music! Seeing the eyeballs of actual listeners! Other musicians! I have missed you SO!

Quick cancer updates:
I had my last surgery related to my breast reconstruction last week, and I'm hoping to not do any more surgeries the rest of my life. My breasts are uneven and are different sizes, thanks to the first plastic surgeon who was apparently lazy and sloppy. I'm trying to remember that all breasts are uneven, so maybe my new fake ones are just realistic. Mostly, I don't care what they look like: I just wanted my DRESSES to fit again! And hallelujah, they DO! I can wear vintage clothing. I can wear cowboy boots. My guitar no longer feels weird to play. I haven't attempted the accordion yet, but I think it'll finally work like I remember :) 

Thank you all for the love!
Various ways to support me are all here: brigidkaelin.com/links and I appreciate every tip & good thought SO MUCH.

I'm still here. I had a surgery yesterday -- I'm hoping it's my final breast-cancer-related surgery, though the plastic surgeon wants to do one more to fix the crap-job that my original surgeon did on my left breast. I'm not sure if I care enough to go under anesthesia again. They have to give me SO MUCH that I'm groggy for months after. Brainfog no fun. So living with one saggy boob and one high boob might be my new normal and oh well. Breasts come in all shapes and sizes, right?

When my parents were going through cancer treatment, I came up with a brilliant business: The Cancer Concierge.

Nurse Navigators within the hospital system are supposed to act as concierges -- to make appointments for you, make recommendations and referrals, answer questions and generally be there for you. In my experience, they do none of that. It's a nice th
ought though. 

My nurse navigator called me last week "just to check in," after having not touched base in over six months. I told her I had had emergent surgery to remove an infected expander, that the plastic surgeon her office recommended was awful, etc, etc, and she had no idea about any of it. Like, really, she didn't even have time to look over my chart before checking in, so there's just no way she has time to give a crap about my nutrition.

Screenshot from my first coaching  session! She's lovely.

I would have paid good money to a Cancer Concierge™service if that existed (the last time I googled, it didn't exist yet, but please: someone make it happen!).

What does exist, however, is a Cancer Coach, and I'm thrilled to be working with Isabel Galiano. (Follow her on Instagram at https://www.instagram.com/the_cancer_coach/.)

I have to admit that for a loooooong time, I equated "coaches" with just "unlicensed therapists." I figured anyone could just call themselves a coach and have a job, but I didn't really take it seriously. I'm someone who's always been self-employed and who has been successful at it, so "life coaching" didn't really make sense to me. 

After meeting Isabel, I am acknowledging: I was wrong. 

I had an initial 20-minute intake with The Cancer Coach to discuss where I am in my treatment and my general lifestyle and situation.

Then I had my first hour-long session with her, which was focused on nutrition. I've generally eaten really well my entire life -- which is part of why getting cancer was so frustrating. I did pretty much everything I could to lower my risk, and I still freaking got cancer. It makes you want to just go to McDonald's and grab a large fry and a coke and then eat unlimited chips and queso for dinner. I mean, why did I both being 90% vegan when it's clearly genetics that's going to bring me down?

While Isabel is very evidence-based (I love that -- I don't respond to mystical stuff for the most part: I prefer science), she also understands that I am human. Finding a balance between doing everything right, but also being able to enjoy the occasional Taco night with my neighbors, is key. 

Something she pointed out this week that seems obvious, but my way-of-thinking was interfering: it doesn't have to be all or nothing. You can eat gluten-free and plant-based most of the time. But just because you have some chips and queso (can you tell that chips and queso is my weakness?) one night doesn't mean you are a total failure. 

Anyway, if you're just beginning your cancer journey, and if you have the resources, may I recommend you reach out to someone like The Cancer Coach? (Check out her website; it's full of resources.) The nurse navigators will never be able to focus on YOU, and it is wildly helpful to have someone who is doing just that. 

Other takeaways from my first session with The Cancer Coach:

• Pay attention to the chemicals in your local water, and consider investing in a filter. If you have been diagnosed with cancer, then your body clearly has a difficult time fighting off cancer cells. Don't feed them more carcinogens.
• Drink water first thing in the morning. (I knew this, but I don't always do it. Isabel was great about explaining the science behind, and how that affects cancer patients.)
• Limit alcohol intake. Science links cancer and alcohol. Despite my whisky-related career, I don't drink much, and I never have more than one in a sitting. (Cancer Coach's videos are here if you'd like to hear more discussion.)
  
  The biggest takeaway of all was:
  
  
• PLAN YOUR MEALS. This is the hardest thing in the world for me. I know how to eat healthy. I have so much trouble with planning my meals -- primarily because of last-minute schedule changes. I can cook in batches and plan ahead, but, being self-employed, something always comes up to mess up my plan. But sketching out the week and then being okay if something comes up, is super helpful in eating well and eliminating food waste (pet peeve!).
  
  
  I'll tell you that I'm not doing perfect about planning out meals, but I am doing great about not beating myself when I diverge.

If you're a Patreon member, head over there now to see me and Jeska SING together!

6 things you can do FOR FREE to support an independent musician.

Times were tough for indie-artists BEFORE pandemic. We were already struggling, knowing that live performances was the only consistent way to earn actual money. Then pandemic hit, and there went our only source of income. Perhaps you, too, have lost your entire source of income since the pandemic (and if you haven't, then what is stopping you from joining Patreon? It's $10/year, friends!), and in that case, here are some TOTALLY free things you can do to support an indie musician.

1. Follow them on Spotify. Seriously, just clicking that "follow" button is a MASSIVE help. (Could you do that for me, please, like right now?? I've only got 225 followers as of this posting. Please help those numbers grow!)

2. Subscribe to their YouTube channels. YouTube has stopped paying artists for views, unless you have 1000 subscribers and thousands of hours of views. If you hit "subscribe," that gets artists closer to getting paid for their music, and it doesn't cost you anything.

3. "Like" them on Facebook. 

4. Follow them on Twitter. 

5. Follow them on Instagram.

These social metrics aren't terribly important in and of themselves, but they add up. Brand collaboration is a potential source of income to an artists, but they can't get paid by brands until they have a certain number of followers. The same goes with spotify and other streaming platforms: you have to have X number of followers before the algorithm starts adding you to playlists or suggestions.

6. Leave their YouTube channel or Spotify albums playing in the background of your device. If it's on mute it doesn't count, but you could really help an artist by just streaming their albums all day long on that random old iphone that you let your kid play with. Put it in a closet, but stream, stream, stream. 

7. Shop their Amazon Storefront. If you shop on Amazon (and yes ... I understand how problematic Amazon is, but also, having been disabled during a pandemic, Amazon made my life liveable, so I consider the ability to boycott a massive privilege), then please just click on a musician's Amazon affiliate link if they have one. Amazon will give a few pennies from each purchase to the musician, and we never know it was you who shopped or what you purchased. You don't even have to buy from the recommended products -- just use the musician's link to get to Amazon and they will earn click-revenue.

Hello, I've been blogging for FIFTEEN YEARS. Would y'all consider dropping me a tip? Thank you. All my Tip Jars and more are here.

I have been bad about blogging, mainly because of the brainfog that accompanied all of the anesthesia I've been put under.

Something that has bothered me is how, even pre-pandemic, there is just no support system for a cancer patient. It is literally survival of the fittest, and that is wildly unfair.

"Unfair" is not a useful word in general, but it is a useful word to a cancer patient who needs to scream into the wind. 

If you are a new cancer patient, someone who has found my blog through a google search or instagram post, then welcome. And I'm so sorry you are here, in need of support and information.

I've been seeing a Behavioral Oncologist (BO) for almost four years now. I was first eligible to see the Behavioral Oncologist because I was primary caregiver to my mother, who was being treated for pancreatic cancer. I had accompanied her to the therapy appointments, and quickly realized I would benefit from seeing the Behavioral Oncologist on my own. I saw the therapist regularly through my mom's treatment, and then during my dad's treatment, and still after their deaths.

If you are a cancer patient (or caregiver), PLEASE, right now, get out a pen or open a note on your phone and write down the words: BEHAVIORAL ONCOLOGIST. I keep writing the words over and over because I cannot emphasize enough how important they are to your well-being.

They are the only person in your whole cancer team who has the time and energy to care about your whole-being. They have prescribing powers and psychiatry background. They care about your sleep, and if you're not sleeping, there is no way you can heal. They care about your mental health. They have access to your scans, so they can see exactly where you are in your treatment, how close to death you are, or how close to being cancer-free. They are big-picture APRNs, typically, and they have literally saved my life.

The Behavioral Oncology department that I've been seeing, however, seems to have changed its general care. I think they are probably being overwhelmed by new cancer patients, and they no longer have the time to offer talk therapy in the same way they did when my mom was sick. 

I've recognized that I need more support than the Behavioral team has time to offer, so I have sought out support through other resources: a cancer coach.

It sounds silly, but it's so far been really interesting, and I'm going to be blogging about the experience. 

I've only had one meeting with her, but it was full of information and light. She asked about the big picture and offered insight into whole-body wellness. So much information is out there that it's nice to have someone who's been through it to talk you through priorities.

The first priority for me has been getting adequate sleep because if you have good sleep, your body is better-capable of healing. IF you have good sleep, you make better nutrition choices. If you have good sleep, you have energy to meal plan and exercise.

I've been taking high-concentrate CBD and an anti-depressant that has drowsiness as a side effect (taken at night), and that has significantly increased my sleep quality. When I take the anti-depressant alone, my watch tells me my sleep quality is 70%. With the CBD added, my sleep quality increases to 80-84%. If I take THC, my sleep quality his 89%, but Kentucky, unfortunately, still doesn't' have a medical marijuana law, so THC is limited to when I am out of town.

I'll have another appointment with The Cancer Coach next week, and I'm going to be focusing on nutrition. Will share recipes and meal planning tips, as meal planning has always been my kryptonite.

Does anyone have a recipe they love? An anti-inflammatory recipe that would be fit for a vegetarian cancer patient? 

It's been over a year, and we are all itching for live music. 

I, a professional musician, am desperate for an audience -- live eyeballs I can connect with and not just busking on Facebook. I'm also still not comfortable accepting gigs indoors at events that are slowly coming back in America (while the rest of the world is still very much locked down). But there is a certain situation that I'd be happy to play, and also happy to host: The House Concert: Pandemic-edition.

Our backyard has been oh-so-pleasant!

Remember socialization? I don't! This weekend I had a backyard Passover dinner with a handful of friends who are fully vaccinated, and we practiced talking -- outside and distanced. I was terrible at interacting. They were like swans to water, in my eyes, but when they got home, each of them texted to apologize for their inability to socialize properly. I think we are all feeling somewhat feral at this point.

Pin this to pinterest!

In all my talks with other breast cancer patients, not one has been sent home directly after surgery, like I have, everysingletime -- excepting, of course, those who have been diagnosed in the pandemic year. Today I want to talk about GOING HOME DIRECTLY AFTER SURGERY.

It's because of COVID-19 precautions that so many dangerous surgeries have become outpatient. In October 2000, my mother was in the hospital for 5 days after her mastectomy. Nurses emptied her drains (plastic balloons that hang off your sides and fill up with blood and lymph fluid and must be emptied every four hours), and they monitored her vitals. They managed her pain. The doctor stopped by to discuss treatment, care, the future. She felt cared for.

How am I? Okay. The longer days are cheering me up, but my surgeries have affected my executive function (i.e. my ability to get anything done). 

A few updates: I had breast cancer. It has come to my attention that not everyone knew this. Sorry!

I've got 2-3 more surgeries to go before my breast reconstruction is complete. These multiple surgeries were because my plastic surgeon didn't listen to me when I told him there was an infection. He said it was "fine," and then I went another week before I saw him again. The next week he filled my expander, and then I said, "I swear it's infected, could you please check?" He finally aspirated some fluid, and then sent me immediately to the OR for an emergency surgery to clear out a big abscess and cut off a bunch of dying skin and remove the tissue expander and sew me up flat. 

I'm trying to let it go, but I'm pretty angry that I didn't have a chance to, like, try antibiotics first. 

I'm also frustrated that it's added seven months to my treatment plan, and I just want to get back to being a great parent and artist.

All that anesthesia is giving me brainfog. 

Reading is impossible; thank goodness for audiobooks. I can't even read an easy romance (Hello, Bridgerton books!) without doing that thing where your brain realizes it's read an entire page without any content digestion. (I swear it's not just me reading the sex scenes on repeat.) I had about a month in January where my brain was finally starting to feel good again -- hence, when I got really into art/watercolors/drawing, but bam! that fourth surgery did me in. I feel like I have jello in my head again.

I got my first COVID vaccine last week, which has changed my mental health completely. I don't plan on playing gigs in bars or anything, but I did actually set foot in a store yesterday (Paul's Fruit Market!) for the first time in a year. Life will never be the same as it was March 1 of last year, but I do see a future where I might have adventures again.

I had some bloodwork taken today. I have oncology appointment next week. I have pre-op for my mid-March surgery on Friday. Basically, it's typically cancer-life: a bunch of waiting around and then five doctors' appointments in a week. 

In this-is-getting-old-news, I'm stressed about finances again, mainly because I still can't work like I want to. Our health insurance has changed, so we have to meet a third out-of-pocket within a year. Then this weekend we had a huge sewage backup in our basement -- a repair that will require taking out yet another mortgage. I'm growing pretty tired of spending five figures on things that I don't get to ... enjoy?, and I would really like to take out a mortgage and take the whole family to Egypt or something. Maybe I need to just spend some money on something frivolous to balance it out. 

My big priority this year, though, is to get my health back on track. I went from averaging 15,000 steps a day to being unable to walk up a flight of stairs without my fitness wrist band asking if I'm okay. Just last week I got the okay to start strengthening exercises -- but not with weights: with water bottles. I'm not to lift over 2 pounds yet. 

Still, I can see the light, if I can just get motivated enough to reach for it.

As far as art goes, I'm going to:

• PLAN ANOTHER TOUR! I'm going to tour my house again. And I'm going to livestream it to YouTube & Facebook. 
  
  
• Finish a music video already!!! It's for the same song I've been trying to release for six months, but I keep running into problems with the music video. I don't even want to be in the video at this point, but you also cannot release a song in 2021 unless there's a video for it. Well, you can, but you might as well be writing a note on a post-it and throwing it into a lake because the algorithm just doesn't work for you unless you've got a video. Ugh, can someone help me? Joe M, can I hire you? Are you reading this? Valerie, can you do some ballet to a song and let Joe film it? I don't know how to project manage my own stuff. Argh. 
  
  
• Release new music: one song a month, maybe? I'm sitting on mixed and mastered songs, but I don't have a plan to release it all because I just don't understand the proper steps anymore. 
  
  
• Do a few more home portraits. I got backed up with doing these for friends, and, while I do love doing them, I realized I need to start charging for them. If you'd like me to draw your house, lemme know.

Watercolor Iris. From a Let'sMakeArt tutorial.

Surgery is no joke, friends. I was feeling better this morning, and I've stopped taking the pain pills. (The pain is the same with or without them.) Because everyone was driving me crazy, which happens when I don't get a sufficient amount of alone time, I decided to go for a drive and deliver some art I promised to people. I made five art deliveries around the city and took photos of four homes for house-portrait-commissions. I had two more to go, but they were a bit farther afield than my energy could manage. 

Driving around for an hour was depleting, apparently, and I'm now in bed, clutching my mastectomy pillow and with the electric mattress pad cranked on high. Being a sloth comes with guilt: guilt that I'm not playing with my kids, mostly, but also guilt that David is, yet again, doing 100% of the household chores. I've done a good job of collecting dishes by my bed, but I'm not strong enough to carry them downstairs. Last week I dropped a bunch of oats all over the floor. Dishes aren't as easy clean-up.

I forget that surgery, to your body, is basically the equivalent of being attacked by a saber-toothed tiger, biologically-speaking. My cells have no idea that the surgery was planned. They instead are totally stressing out and having to rebuild tissue and also recuperate from the strange medicines. I'm meant to be lying in my cave, having my hunter-gatherer family bring me water and nuts and perhaps some mammoth-flesh if it's a good week. 

Instead I'm sipping decaf Earl Grey and eating Dutch Caramel Apple Pie that a wonderful friend delivered yesterday. It's better than a cave, I think.

My body is exhausted, but my brain is on overload. I have so many projects I want to do. I want to get a real re-start on my memoir (which I'm having to re-write in light of my own cancer diagnosis. It was originally a memoir about being The Sandwich Generation, taking care of two parents with cancer while trying to find fun and joy in the little things. Still working on a tagline, friends, but are you a literary agent? I have one interested, but then again that was a year ago...). I want to finish this instrumental album. I want to finish a music video for "18 Months Later" -- my new single that isn't out yet, but you can hear it here if you are a Patron even at the lowest tier - $10/year! I want to make new paintings. I want to write a romance novel. I want to be the best homeschool mom on the planet. I want to draw with my new markers that you all bought me because you are SIMPLY THE BEST. I want to record new music.

More than anything I want to perform for people. I miss a crowd so much. I miss the back and forth, the heckling, the laughs, the response, just everything. 

Back to art though. I'm running a special for Patrons who are at the $20/month level, where I will draw a house portrait for you to thank you for your support. I do have a listing just up on my website where people are ready to straight-up buy a portrait rather than joining Patreon... but really I'd prefer you join Patreon where my music community is:) On Patreon you can also just pay for a year at one time with a discount of 15% and that turns out is $204/annually, which is the cost of a home portrait anyway, so support an artist and get a cool perk!

Okay, enough about Patreon. I've gotta shut up about that already. Anyone reading this is likely already a member there, and I love you eternally. 

Thank you all for the love, for the art supplies, for the books for my boys, and for the pies. My family is so very grateful.

Ways to Support:

Shop my Amazon Storefront.
Join Patreon.
Subscribe to my YouTube. It's free.

HOWDY! It's nearing midnight, day of surgery. I was floored by the number of people who've been reading my blog lately -- and the number of people who care about me. You'd think I'd grasp that, but clearly I need many years of therapy to understand that I have a really great community.

This is probably the most important thing in cancer treatment: finding your village.

Tomorrow begins the first of my three surgeries to repair the post-mastectomy issues. I can't quite see the end of the tunnel yet, but I'm relieved to be making some progress.