Uneventful

Colorful refraction from stained glass walls at a subway station, on my way to a medical appointment in Astoria sometime in October

This week has been anything but that.

On Monday morning, I had a productive conversation with a source about a report I am working on. Immediately after that hour-long virtual call, I signed in for work. I only had an hour before again switching gears, this time for an event I was hosting at school: a talk about the criminal legal system, where we were joined by an inspiring journalist and two formerly wrongfully incarcerated men, whom he had written about.

After an hour and a half, I was back at work. My supervisor, of course, had been previously informed about the adjustment in my schedule. At our planning meeting later that afternoon, he asked how I’ve been doing, and my response was, “This week is a game of Tetris.” I went to class after clocking out for the day.

The rest of this week has somewhat been as busy as that Monday. I had to go from one event on my calendar to the next — on top of my reporting, my work, and my classes — with barely enough time to reconnect with myself. I met with a former professor at his workplace, where we talked about the impacts of our work. I spoke to prospective students at our J-school open house. I supported a friend at the release party of her business news publication. I had a discussion with a program director at the university to talk about changes he would like to propose. I met a friend from Tokyo for lunch, and we chatted about education systems, housing, and the economy in these opposite parts of the world. I celebrated early Friendsgiving with a group of Filipino journalists at Central Park. I joined a one-day choir in Brooklyn, facilitated by Kenter Davies at Gaia Music Collective.

(From left to right: Jollibee lunch at Bryant Park with Masashi, trees at Central Park, and Gaia facilitator Kenter Davies in Brooklyn)

The one-day choir was a beautiful cap to my eventful week.

About 300 strangers gathered at an empty hall in Greenpoint, all bonded by the passion for singing. Kenter and his colleague Matt Goldstein, who founded Gaia, wrote a beautiful arrangement of Wicked’s “For Good”. Even before I had applied for journalism master’s programs, I was already following Gaia on Instagram and thought it would be magical to one day participate in one of their events. When the group had posted their November schedule, I knew I had some space in my weekends this month to show up. The song they offered also perfectly illustrates how I feel in this moment in my life: As I begin to wrap up my three-term academic program, looking back at the crazy year I’ve had in the midst of it all, I can’t help but be filled with so much gratitude for everyone I met and, in some ways, changed me.

I thought I would go through my cancer treatments on my own, being in a country so far from home. But I had friends showing up for me, often at a moment’s notice, taking turns to make sure I was never alone. My professors and our university staff had also been incredibly supportive and accommodating, that it makes me wonder sometimes what I did to deserve all the kindness.

Writing that last sentence, I wanted to correct myself: We don’t need to do anything to be worthy of kindness. We inherently are.

And I felt that inherent worthiness of kindness at Gaia this Saturday. We had a moment of reflection as a break from all the singing and thought about what the song meant to us. I had volunteered to share my story first. I told the group how I had no family and friends in the city when I moved last year, that I had to undergo surgery in my neck and lost my voice for a time that it was so devastating for me to hear myself singing “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” out of tune. One of my fellow Soprano 1s looked back at me teary-eyed. I continued and said, this was my first time singing again, and I was so happy to be there. Everyone applauded.

I dedicated the song to everyone who’s been an incredible resource for me in the past year. Then, I shared that I would be graduating next month. Everyone cheered again.

At the end of the event, as crowds were dispersed, I had more than a couple of fellow participants approach me to give me hugs, congratulate me, and say they wish to see me again in future events. I definitely cried on my way home.

This week feels special to me — and it‘s not because I found my voice again, or because of how packed and productive the past few days had been. It’s also been the first week since I’ve completely felt like myself again.

At the J-school’s open house on Wednesday, my program director asked if my medication interactions had been resolved, and I said yes with gusto. I wanted to immortalize the moment by posting a photo to remember this week by. Scanning my phone’s albums, I found that I had changed my medication exactly six weeks ago. This week’s when exactly my body’s reaction to my new dosage would have normalized. This must be why I felt great all week.

In his notes, my surgeon wrote that my surgery was “uneventful”. I took that to mean everything went well. I learned, in the context of my medical situation, uneventful is a good thing.

For months, I would walk from my apartment to the subway, ride the train to Midtown Manhattan, feeling nauseous, wanting to vomit, wondering why I kept doing this to myself when I could call in sick (I was, anyway) and stay in bed. My heart raced. And it was not because of the coffee that almost became a staple to keep me functioning. Every night, I dragged my legs to class. I closed my eyes to focus on what’s being said during discussions because the lights overwhelmed me. At home, sleep would claim me before I could even dress out of my clothes. Twice in the past month, I thought I should bring myself to urgent care. In both times, I ended up falling asleep before I could decide if I really should go. Once, I jumped out of bed because of a sudden, excruciating pain in my left calf that extended to my foot and eventually shot up my thigh. I was shaken and shaking. I cried the entire time.

This week has been uneventful for me. And I’m happy that it finally was, because that has made it such an eventful, meaningful week. •